Under the Bluest of Skies
by No Pain No Gain
Summary: Cardverse!USUK. Alfred is a peasant chosen to become the next King of Spades. With a cranky Queen whose eyebrows are the least of defaults and a war with Clubs looming on the horizon, Alfred will have to learn to make the right decisions, to rule a country and his private life at the same time, and to love someone he'd never thought he'd fall for. "Find the magic binding you both."
1. Blue

**Author's Notes**

**It's been a while since I've last written something that's not totally psychologically profound. I got some mind-play around here as well, but a lot of it is action, instead of psychological development. I'm trying something not completely new, but relatively unknown to me here xD**

**Alright, so... Cardverse!AU it is. I jumped the Cardverse bandwagon. So sue me. And it's a USUK! Hooray! (what else do I write, anyway? Hahaha, my IRL France would hate me if she saw me right now...)**

**A bigger summary would be: Alfred is a peasant that is chosen to be the next King of Spades. Unfortunately, he and his Queen don't seem to get along too well, and that affects their performance as leaders. No time to be fretting about issues of the heart, though, as a war is looming on the horizon, led by the dreaded kingdom of Clubs. If they want to survive this one, they'll have to learn together, decide together, fight together, and somewhere along the way, find the magic that binds them together. Because a strong King is a King that loves his people, his nation, and his Queen. **

**Also, I wanna give a warning that could possibly serve as a disclaimer, too. PLEASE READ: **

**I have recently seen a lot of Cardverse!AUs that have the same gist as mine, but I swear on my Flying Mint Bunny plushie that I didn't steal people's ideas. I mean, for hell's sake, I've been writing this fanfic since what, beginning February? There is no way anybody stole my ideas, or I stole anyone's. So any resemblance between this fic's concepts and another's is purely coincidental, trust me on this one. Also, I don't own Hetalia, because if I did, then USUK would be more than just canon. It would be... uhh... Very canon o_o**

**ANYWAYS. I've wasted enough time. More notes at the bottom!**

**Warnings: None for this chapter, a lot more in later ones.  
**

* * *

"Your Majesty... It has struck once more."

"And?"

"We know who is destined to be the next King."

"You mean my-"

"Yes, Sire."

"... Then find him. I refuse to be toppled. Find him and bring him to me. See if I will not kill this _destiny_ with my own two hands."

And that was where it all degenerated.

_...OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO..._

It had started out as a pretty good day. The waking sun had tickled Alfred awake with its warm rays across his face, and they'd gotten running water in the district fountain that morning. After breakfast and having taken a bath, Alfred had started to get ready for work.

"Matthew, have you seen my shoes?" he called, not having to yell too loud since their house wasn't exactly the largest in town.

"How should I know where you keep your things, Al?" another quieter voice replied from the kitchen, another blond emerging from the door-less entrance in the wall.

"Well maybe you used them to go buy food yesterday, I don't know." Alfred huffed, getting on his knees to check under their shared bed.

"I didn't take your shoes, Al. Now hurry before you're late for work." His younger brother reminded him.

"Great. And today had started off so nicely." Alfred muttered. Later on, he regretted not biting his words, when suddenly, there was loud thumping on the front door.

"Who's that?" Matthew asked warily, freezing in his steps.

"I... Don't know." Alfred whispered, uncharacteristically silent as he got up, eyeing the door.

There was a small silence before another rather loud knock on the door echoed through the small house, this time accompanied by voices.

"In the name of His Majesty the King, open this door or we will force it open!"

"Alfred?" Matthew went white, backing towards the wall.

"I don't know." Alfred gulped down nervously, not wanting to admit that he was somewhat scared as well. What did the royal guards want with them? They'd paid their taxes, no matter how unfair, and they hadn't broken the law or anything, had they?

"You have three seconds to open this door!"

"I'm coming!" Alfred called, hoping his voice wasn't as shaky as he felt it to be. He cautiously put his hand on the doorknob and turned, stepping back swiftly. A smart move as soldiers immediately flooded in, about half a dozen in complete Spades uniform, armed and ready for combat.

"M-May I help you gentlemen?" Alfred started, but was immediately cut off as five spears were pointed towards him. Gulping down nervously, he raised his hands up in surrender, fearfully looking up at the last soldier that was looking at him cautiously.

"Alfred F Jones, citizen of the Spades Kingdom, inhabitant of the Ninth District, you are hereby formally put under arrest by direct order of his Majesty the King himself." The man recited.

"W-What?" Alfred's eyes grew wide. "W-Why?"

"You have the right to remain silent and follow us, lest you force us to use violence." The soldier replied.

"Wait, you can't just barge in here and arrest me without telling me what I've done! That's against the law!" Alfred protested vividly, clenching his fists.

"Alfred F Jones, Citizen of Spades-"

"Oh, don't give me that bullshit, just tell me what I'm accused of!" Alfred cut him off, irritated, and literally feeling the consequences of his brash actions when two grips enclosed his upper arms tightly. He winced and instinctively struggled against his captors, which prompted prodding with spears. "H-Hey, let me go!"

"Men, to the castle!" the leader of the soldiers simply ordered, turning around to leave.

"W-Wait!" A smaller voice called from the back, unnoticed. Matthew, realizing that nobody was hearing him, ran to the front and blocked the entrance. "Wait, you can't just do that to him! What's he accused of? Tell us!" he demanded in such a quietly enraged voice that the leader of the guards merely raised a brow and pushed him away like a mere bug.

"Get out of the way, kid." He huffed.

"No!" Matthew called, feeling tears of frustration and fear well up in his eyes as he watched the royal guards lead his one and only remaining family member out. "Alfred!"

"Yo, don't worry, Matt!" Alfred called back, laughing a bit shakily. "I'm just gonna go see what the guys want from me, and I'll be right back! Don't wait for me to leave for work!" he tried looking unstressed, but the occasional prod with the sharp tip of a spear did make him struggle still.

"Alfred..." Matthew called weakly, his frail body unable to take the shock of such a sudden turn of events. He felt paralyzed, stuck in place, watching helplessly as they tore him and his twin apart.

As he slowly lost sight of Alfred, the tears finally ran down his cheeks. The sun was still shining brightly through the window, and the birds were still singing. What a beautiful day indeed.

_...OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO..._

Alfred was led through the richer districts, closer and closer to the looming figure of the castle in the distance. After what felt like hours of walking under the sun with no shoes nor adequate protection, Alfred felt like crawling back into bed and sleeping it all off like some kind of nightmare. Yeah, that had to be it. A nightmare.

This couldn't really be happening to him, right? He hadn't done anything wrong, right?

"Are we there yet?" he rasped, his throat scratchy and dry.

"The castle, home to the royal family of Spades, is up ahead." The leader merely replied.

"Cool. You know you guys can let me go, though, right?" he struggled weakly in his captors' grip. "I kinda have no energy left for running, or anything. And my feet hurt. Can we sit down for a second? Oh, and would you guys happen to have some water? It would be nice of you to gimme some, y'know, a question of not fainting under the sun, or anything." He babbled on.

"Kindly remain quiet. We are almost there." The lead guard nodded to the gate attendant, and the gate to the castle swung open for them to enter.

From then on, Alfred's eyes widened, sun and fatigue and dehydration all but forgotten. His gaze was trained on the scenery around him, beautiful unlike anything he had ever seen before.

Hedges were cut up into spades, lining the cobblestone road to the steps. Neatly cut grass ruffled in the wind, and bushes of enchantingly blue roses grew sporadically, here and there. There were a few trees planted, small and leafy and budding with small, white flowers that sometimes floated down onto the ground with the wind. A large stone fountain stood in the middle of the road, separating it into two paths that rejoined afterwards to lead up to the main gates.

And stuck inside this ethereal, enchanting, entirely fake scenery, Alfred felt misplaced and nauseous. He was almost glad he was getting away from the smell of blue roses as he was led inside.

The main hall was huge. In itself, it was twice as large as Matthew's and his house, if not bigger. The carpet was a lush blue that appealed to the eye, and the walls were pale blue that didn't hurt the eyes much. Portraits of past Kings, Queens and Jacks adorned the walls, drawers lining the walls. A crystal chandelier hung overhead, and Alfred took a moment to do some basic math and calculate how much food he and Matthew could buy themselves by selling one of the hundred crystals on that chandelier.

Too busy looking around, he almost didn't notice he had been stopped in front of a large pair of double-doors, ornate and decorated with gold. Two servants were at the handles, dressed in a regular servants' uniform and at the signal of the lead guard, they pulled the double doors open.

"Announcing the arrival of his Majesty's requested prisoner." The lead guard announced before leading their entire party in.

Alfred only took a moment to gape at the rich decorations, gold linings, blue tapestries and white walls, enjoying the feeling of a soft blue carpet under his scratched feet. As soon as the feeling came, though, it left, one of the guards pushing him down on his knees.

Alfred looked up to grumble at him, but his head was immediately pushed downwards again. Facing the carpet, he mumbled under his breath.

"This is he?" a loud and powerful voice finally asked.

"Your Majesty." The lead guard stepped in front of Alfred and took him by the hair, pulling his head up. Alfred squeaked in pain, wincing, and glared defiantly at whoever was in front of him.

And despite never having seen any member of the royal family beforehand, he knew that the large, imposing old man in front of him, dressed in rich blue, gold and indigo clothes, was most definitely the king. The bejeweled crown on his head was also a small detail to consider.

"It does look like it." The King nodded after a moment of studying Alfred's pained expression. "What is your name, peasant?"

"Well you're the one that called for me, you know my name's Alfred." Alfred immediately responded, raising a brow at the King, and receiving a shove towards the ground as a reward for his valiant efforts. His forehead hit the ground, and if it weren't for the carpet, it would surely have bruised.

"Show respect to his Majesty! And apologize!"

"Sorry." Alfred huffed, realizing it wasn't enough when a foot came down on one of his hands, pressing down harshly. "M-My apologies, Your Majesty." He repeated, glaring up at the guard stepping on his hand and making his bones crack. Apparently satisfied with his answer, the guard removed the pressure, making Alfred gasp in relief.

The King eyed his bowed figure for a moment longer, and then laughed derisively.

"And to think that such a simple peasant was the one chosen by the Clockwork of Spades. If this is the one chosen, then I fear for the future of Spades royalty. Pure blood will not be upheld much longer if the Clockwork picks commoners again." He mocked.

Alfred, disinterested, let his eyes wander, until they fell on a figure he hadn't noticed before. Standing behind the King quietly, perfectly straight, eyes cold, the young man with acidic green eyes was surveying the scene carefully. Their gazes crossed for a second, and Alfred noticed the huge eyebrows that were poking out from beneath that choppy blond hair of his. The second thing he noticed was his attire, less decorated than the King's enormous robes, but the same colours, minus the gold. One thing he spent a while questioning himself on was the small hat perched delicately on top of the boy's head, and how it held against gravity.

But, Alfred decided as he turned his attention back to the King, it was probably just another snobby noble, here to watch a simple peasant be put down by royalty. How noble indeed.

"This decides it." The King's voice dragged him back into full attention. "I will not let anybody take over, especially a simpleton like this fool. This kingdom is mine and will stay mine, and destiny will do nothing to change this." The man walked slowly towards Alfred, drawing an ornate, sharp silver sword out of its sheath.

And suddenly, everything made sense to Alfred as he watched the light glint off the metal of the sword, and the reflection of his wide, terrified eyes as the sword came close enough for him to see. Frozen in fear, he felt himself trembling, but refused to look back down.

"_Sorry, Matthew."_ He thought, gritting his teeth. "_You're going to have to do the dishes again tonight."_

The King raised his sword above his head, and Alfred glared up at him defiantly, heart thumping a thousand miles a minute. It was clear to him now. He was going to die here.

"My King, wait one moment, please."

Or perhaps not?

All attention immediately went to the other figure, the noble Alfred had spotted beforehand.

"Let us leave the boy alive." The young man suggested, holding his ground fiercely.

"Are you questioning my authority?" the King asked, turning around and going for the young noble instead.

"No Sire." The blond replied, watching as the King came closer and closer without even blinking. "Merely a suggestion that I would personally highly recommend."

"Oh really now. A recommendation. For me. For my decisions." The King let out a small laugh, glaring down at the noble. The atmosphere was tense, and Alfred had leaned over a bit to watch the happenings like it was some kind of show.

A battle was going on between their gazes, locked and unmoving. None of them blinked, simply glaring at each other, trying to see who would falter first.

It seemed like it was the King that did, for a moment later, he let out a short, humourless laugh.

"Don't make me laugh." And he raised his hand.

Alfred, judging by the way the noble's eyes slightly widened, then narrowed, the faint gritting of his teeth and the clenching of his fists, could deduce that the young man saw it coming from afar, but purposefully stood in his place. He couldn't fathom why, though, as a moment later, he was backhanded, the sheer force of the blow sending him toppling to the ground silently.

"Must I remind you, my _Queen_, that between us, it is I that had the ultimate power? You bow to me, not the other way around." The King spat, leaving the Queen on the ground as he turned back to Alfred.

Whose eyes were wide in surprise and horror as he watched what had turned out to be the _Queen of Spades _touch his cheek tenderly and stand back up shakily, straightening.

"This boy will die."

"Your Majesty-"

"No, this is final!"

"Please, your Highness-"

"There will be none of that!"

"Father!" the Queen yelled finally, eyes going wide as he clamped a hand over his mouth in horror, dropping it as soon as if came. Alfred's eyes went wide as well, and he shook his head, wondering if he'd heard right. The King and Queen were... father and son? How did that even make sense?

"I thought I ordered you..." the King seethed. "To address me by my proper title, Queen!"

"Y-Your Majesty, I-I-"

"Silence!"

"My King, listen!" the Queen yelled louder, taking only a small breath before continuing before he could be cut off. "Imprisoning the boy will prove your power! Killing him would mean you are submitting to destiny, fighting a defensive war against it! Imprisoning him until the destined day would be much wiser, as if would show your graceful leniency and your power and control over the entire kingdom. What say you, my King? Let us show the world how imposing you truly are." He finished, panting for breath.

And Alfred didn't know whether he hated this Queen for not getting him out of trouble, or he loved him for saving his life.

And the worst part was, during the silence that followed, everybody realized that the King was considering the Queen's words after all.

"Will if really show my power?" he finally asked, unsure.

"Yes, Milord, most definitely. Keeping under your control your greatest opponent, has it never meant power? By killing him, you get rid of the problem. By imprisoning him, you control it." The Queen quickly added, eyes stuck hopefully on the King.

The King looked at his Queen, then at the prisoner, then back at his Queen, and finally nodded.

"Take him to the dungeons, then."

As Alfred was dragged away, to be locked up for an indefinite amount of time in a dark, dingy cell, he glared at the Queen, his opinion having been made.

He hated this Queen of Spades already.

_...OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO..._

Alfred had counted three hundred and seventeen drip-drops of water from the ceiling by the time the door to the dungeons opened again and footsteps echoed against the cold stone walls. Deciding he was tired of counting drops of water, he closed his eyes, lying on the ground and facing the wall, back to the bars that kept him from the outside word. If he didn't know better he'd say he was sulking.

"Hello. Are you awake?"

Ah, and now, he was most definitely sulking.

Crossing his arms and curling up tighter against the cold invading his body, Alfred refused to turn around.

"Such a child." The Queen huffed. "Then I guess you don't want your lunch..."

"Lunch?" Alfred exclaimed, immediately jumping up and rushing to the bars, unfortunately forgetting the chain around his ankle and tripping face-first onto the ground.

The Queen snickered at the amusing scene and rolled his eyes before unlocking the small hatch on the ground for food and pushing in a small plate and utensils.

"There." He motioned with his head, watching as Alfred crawled to the plate of food and took it in his hands to smell it.

"Smells good." He simply commented, grabbing a fork and tasting a bit. "Tastes good, too. Do all your prisoners get this sort of treatment, or is it just me?"

"Just you." The Queen shook his head.

"I feel special." Alfred snickered.

"I... I guess I wanted to apologize for my rash decisions back there." The Queen mumbled. "I... Didn't want to see you killed for something you couldn't control."

"Speaking of which, why DID I get in this mess, anyways? There's something I'm not being told, huh?" Alfred remarked obviously, munching on his food and enjoying the smooth taste of refined food.

"I can't tell you. Not yet." The Queen shook his head.

"Dandy. So I'm just gonna chill in here if you need me, awaiting my death at any given moment, trying not to freeze my toes black... Oh, but at least I've got good food!" he raised a brow sarcastically.

"It's a start, isn't it?" the blond growled, one of his huge eyebrows raising as he asked himself who in hell this Alfred F Jones really was.

"Cool." Alfred munched on more of his food, staring at the wall. "I don't trust you, you know." He commented out of the blue, not even turning to look at the Queen.

"As expected." The other male shook his head. "Perhaps you're not as dumb as you first looked."

"I take offense in that." Alfred protested, scrubbing off the last bits of food on his plate using his fork and sighing in content. "Thanks for the food."

"My pleasure." The Queen's lips twitched slightly upwards, just for a moment.

"Okay, so now I must get home to my little brother, make sure he's okay and eating enough and not overworking himself. Think you can let me out?" he asked hopefully, grinning brightly.

"You know I cannot let you out." The Queen replied coldly, although his tone warmed slightly up afterwards. "But... I had brothers... So I can say I can understand what you feel. I will visit this brother of yours and tell him you're alright. Just get some rest, as much as you can." The blond told him, pulling a pocket watch out of his breast pocket to check the time. "I must leave now. Duties to tend to."

"Hey, if you ever wanna chat with the 'peasant' again, feel free to drop by, Queenie!" Alfred called from behind him as he walked off, irritated.

"Kindly call me by my real title, and not some stupid variant of it!"

"Then tell me your name, things'll be much easier that way." Alfred suggested.

"I shan't! Address me properly!" the Queen yelled back, stopping at the door to the dungeons and waiting a moment. When no reply came from Alfred, he smiled sadly and pushed the door open. "Until tomorrow, Alfred."

_...OOOOOOOOOOO..._

It was only the next morning that the Queen of Spades remembered his promise. As he was awoken by a nameless maid, Alfred's face flashed in his mind, and aside from the wondering of why he would think of Alfred first thing in the morning, he recalled his promise to go appease his brother's worries.

At first, he thought of sending a soldier, or a stable boy, to pass on the simple message. After all, why would he, the Queen of Spades, actually need to go all the way down to the Ninth District to pass on a message?

Perhaps it was because of his conscience dictating him to do so? Maybe it was because he knew that it was his fault that the poor boy's brother was stuck in the castle dungeons for the next week. Maybe because he kept telling himself that without him, the boy would already be home to his brother (alright, so he would be in a body bag, but... He'd be home nonetheless, right?) and for good.

Whatever it was, he soon found himself getting changed into something less noticeable and grabbing a cloak, slipping out of his chambers and outside the castle. He grabbed his personal mare, Britannia, out of the stables, briefly wishing her a good morning before he passed the saddle straps under her belly and adjusted them. The horse, as if knowing exactly what to do, waited until her master was ready and mounted, reins in hands, before tossing her mane and getting into a fast trot towards the exit. Adjusting his body to move with the horse's rhythm, the Queen of Spades led his horse into the woods circling the castle, deciding to avoid the front gates. He didn't need his father to know he was out this morning.

He slowed Britannia down a bit so he could manoeuvre her through the branches hanging overhead, and as he usually did when he used this well-known passage through the forest, he let out a sigh of relief when the first signs of civilization appeared again.

Once he was out, he put his cloak hood up and kicked his mare into a gallop. The first district he crossed was the Fourth District, the Second and the Third being more to its left. Skirting the district, he managed to cross it without being seen by too many inhabitants. The sun had risen an hour or so ago, so the richer districts had less people already up than the poorer ones. The Queen noticed this when he was forced to slow his ride down, passing through the Seventh District. People were already up, going to work, or setting up shop.

Trying to keep out of crowds to keep attention off of him, he used the back alleys, always cautious of his surroundings just in case some hooligans decided to ambush him. His trip to the Ninth District was uneventful, though, as it seemed that it was too early for even the thieves to be up and prowling.

He dismounted as he crossed the bounds from the Eighth to the Ninth District, and led his mare by the reins to what he figured was a bakery. The smell of fresh bread wafted from it, and he sidestepped to avoid some running children on his way to the shop. Tethering his mare to one of the porch's poles, he petted her and promised to be back real quick before walking inside.

There was a fairly old woman behind the counter, humming to herself as she worked the uncooked bread between her deft fingers. She noticed the hooded stranger a moment after he came in, and despite his general shady appearance, didn't fail to greet him.

"G'mornin', sir! May I help ya?" she asked, giving him a smile that, despite lacking a tooth here and there, was gentle and kind.

"I'm looking for the house of Alfred F Jones, would you know where I could find it?" the Queen immediately got to the point, his eyes trailing across the few varieties of bread lined behind the glass.

"Alfred Jones? Yes, I know him. Such a helpful boy, that Alfred Jones." The woman nodded, thinking. "It ain't far from here. You walk outta here and walk to the other side of the square, then go through the alley next to the tailor's shop. Turn left on the second alley there, and it's at the end. A small, wooden house, apart from all the others, if I recall correctly." The woman explained.

"Thank you." The Queen nodded.

"Not at all. Now, it's early in the morning, so perhaps you're hungry..." the woman trailed off, only to receive a gold coin slammed onto her counter.

"I don't have time. But here. For your help, madam." The Queen tipped his invisible hat as a sign of respect, then walked out without saying goodbye. He knew the woman would be too captivated by the gold to even hear him.

He untied his ride's reins and led her across the square, ignoring the whispers of people that probably wondered what a man rich enough to own a horse was doing in the Ninth District. The children seemed to have picked up the same vibes, because they steered clear of him. Once, a ball has rolled into his path, and the Queen had stopped to pick it up, looking at the children huddled up, looking up at him fearfully.

A pang spiked through his heart. Did he really induce so much fear to his own citizens? What had the world become?

"Here, child." He whispered soothingly, taking a step forward towards the tallest boy, behind whom were hiding the smaller ones, siblings, probably. He knelt down to his size and gently put the ball out for him to take.

The little boy, no older than ten, probably, looked at his toy, then at the stranger, then back at his toy, and quickly snatched it out of the stranger's hands as if he would bite him if he stayed too long.

"T-Thank you." He whispered nonetheless before speeding off to play.

Shaking his head in both sadness and amusement, the Queen got up and brushed himself off, continuing his journey. The small, dark alleys here and there were certainly bad omens, but he avoided them easily as he followed the path given to him by the baker. Soon enough, the streets were clear of people, and the houses, so far all squished together, started getting more spaced. As the Queen progressed towards his final destination, houses started showing signs of vegetable gardens or small barns.

The Queen guessed he had gotten to the richer area of the poorest district.

And there, he found the house he was looking for, small, wooden, with a wood and straw roof that obviously didn't do much for rain, a homey fence circling a small plot of land where greens were growing. It wouldn't have looked any different than the others, but it did give off a strangely comforting vibe.

Tethering his mare to the fence, the Queen wasted no time in walking up to the stone front porch and knocking softly on the door.

At first, there was nothing, so the Queen knocked again. He just hoped this brother of Alfred's was there. He didn't feel like coming back another time.

Just when he started complaining in his head, the door swung open.

"A-Alfred?"

Well, at least he got the right house.

"O-Oh." The young man at the door corrected himself, blushing. "I'm sorry. I mistook you for someone..."

"Your brother?" the Queen confirmed, watching the boy's eyes grow wide, and his head bob up and down nervously.

"Do you know him? Do you know where he is? How is he? Is he alright? Where is he? He didn't come home last night." The boy's questions got more and more frantic as they came, which forced the Queen to put a finger to his lips to keep him silent.

"Could we talk inside, if possible...?" he requested, looking around. The current conversation was not for prying ears.

"M-Matthew. Matthew Williams. But yes. Please, step inside." The boy quietly opened the doorway to grant access into their humble abode.

The first thing the Queen noticed was the lack of furniture, but that was to be expected. There was a coffee table with one couch by the window, a mattress on the ground by the corner with sheets and two pillows strewn across it. A worn-looking wooden drawer was next to it, some random objects set on it. There was a door to what the Queen guessed was the bathroom. And there was an exit that led to what he figured was the kitchen.

"E-Ehh... Excuse me..." he suddenly heard, turning around to face the boy, who was twiddling his thumbs nervously.

"Did you say something?" the Queen asked, deciding that it was safe to remove his hood.

"Y-Yes, I asked you if-" but he never finished his sentence, because when he noticed the huge brows under sandy blond hair, Matthew stopped. His throat went dry as his mind conjured up the identity of only one person in the entire kingdom that looked like that.

"Yes?" the Queen asked, ruffling his hair, when suddenly, to his mild surprise, Matthew dropped to his knees.

"Y-Your Highness, I-I... I didn't know it was y-you, a-and... O-Oh, my manners, p-please, s-sit down! I-I can see if we have anything t-to offer..." he stammered nervously, obviously embarrassed.

"Rise." The Queen ordered with practiced grace. "That'll be fine. I'm just here for a few minutes, anyways." He waited until Matthew was back on his feet to start. "Your brother is being held in the castle dungeons at this very moment."

Matthew opened his mouth immediately, most probably to ask why, but the Queen stopped him with a wave of his hand.

"He will be let out in six days, one way or another."

"W-What do you mean, Y-Your Highness?"

"Dead or alive."

Matthew couldn't help but stifle a gasp in his hand, shaking and looking as though he would fall any time. The Queen couldn't help but pity him. The quieter brother surely depended on his twin a lot.

"W-Why?" he asked, echoing what his brother had been parroting all this time.

But unlike for Alfred, the Queen had the liberty of answering to Matthew.

"You mustn't tell anyone." He had the feeling Matthew wouldn't, even if the Queen hadn't mentioned it. "But the Clockworks of Spades have struck once more."

"T-The C-Clockworks of S-Spades?" Matthew stammered, going whiter than he had before. "I-I've read about it once..." Ah, so the boy was cultured, after all. Shame Alfred hadn't seemed to share that passion for learning like his brother had. "I-Isn't that the t-thing that announces t-the-"

"Yes." The Queen briskly cut him off, eyes darting around suspiciously. "We'll only know the outcome in six days. Destiny is being tampered with, so I cannot say. I will try to, however, return your brother to you by any means necessary."

"T-Thank you, your Grace." The younger blond stammered, lowering his head, obviously in shock from all the new information thrown at him.

"Digest this information, lad. You have six days until it gets even more hectic." The Queen then turned around and immediately went to the door. Matthew made a move to get it for him, but the Queen raised his hand. "That's alright. I'll get it." He told him before exiting.

By the time Matthew had shaken himself out of his trance and had run to look out the door, the Queen of Spades was already nowhere in sight.

_...OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO..._

Later, the Queen found himself back in the dungeons, carrying a plate of leftovers that he snuck out from the kitchen after lunch. It suddenly struck him that he was sneaking around for a peasant's sake. And when he thought about it in deep, it didn't really bother him. He didn't know why, though.

He quickly found Alfred's cell, it being one of the rare ones that were occupied. He found the boy leaning against the wall, playing with his dirtied fingernails idly. Alfred lifted his gaze when the Queen appeared in front of his cell again, and asides from a lifted brow, he didn't do anything that acknowledged the Queen's presence.

"Stop sulking. I brought food." The Queen immediately pacified, slipping the plate and utensils through the same hole from the day before.

Alfred looked at him a while longer before stretching out and taking the plate, silently starting to eat. Feeling somewhat awkward and misplaced, the Queen cleared his throat.

"You're in a pissy mood." No reaction from Alfred. This disappointed the Queen greatly, for some reason. "I... I went to see your brother today." He tried, knowing he'd hit the jackpot when Alfred's head turned upwards fast.

"M-Matthew?" he spluttered, choking on a piece of food that he'd swallowed wrong. "Y-You went to see him?" his gaze was distrustful although his tone was hopeful.

"I told you I would, didn't I?" the Queen raised a brow, crossing his arms. "I can't believe you didn't trust me."

"You locked me up in a cell without a valid reason, or any reason at all, really. I don't feel like trusting you much." The blond huffed back.

"The faith you put in me is astounding." The older blond rolled his eyes.

"I just told you I didn't trust you." The prisoner repeated, obviously having missed the sarcasm in the Queen's words. The latter got the reflex to smack his face with his palm, but barely retained himself and let it slip.

"Anyways. Don't you want to know how your brother was?" that seemed to catch Alfred's attention, as he left his food alone for a moment in favour of looking at the Queen. "He was doing fine." He continued once he had the other's attention. "Worried about you, most obviously, and confused. But otherwise dealing well."

"Did you tell him I was alright?" Alfred interjected quickly, gaze shining, practically begging.

"I did. And I told him you'd be out in six days." The Queen confirmed.

"Six days? Really? I'm gonna be free in six days?" Alfred asked, letting a wide grin bleed onto his radiant face.

And the Queen's heart ached, for he couldn't tell Alfred that he didn't know in what condition he'd be out. He just knew that something was going to happen in six days, and that it was something big.

"Yes, you'll be out in six days, I promise." He whispered, turning around and starting to walk away so he wouldn't have to explain the guilt in his eyes to Alfred. Instead, he only mumbled to himself when he was far enough, "Be it in a body bag or with the kingdom at your feet".

* * *

**Author's Notes**

**Like all my other stories, the first chapter is a complete turn-off from the story. I do promise it gets good, though :D **

**Also, let me just warn you that I'm going a bit trigger-happy with timeskips in this story xD Just cause I wanna skip the mundane things of everyday life. **

**For those of you who read 'Beautiful Nightmare', first of all, let me say: your support was astounding. You guys are really amazing, thank you so much for reading and reviewing! I just hope you'll enjoy this story as well (: Second of all: This story is going to be very axed on the development of Alfred's and Arthur's bond, and like any other story, will have its ups and downs. Unlike 'Beautiful Nightmare', though, their relationship won't be dark or twisted, or unhealthy. Which means that this story is going to have relatively less psychological depth to it. **

**Anyways, I will stop blabbing now. I hope the start was okay for you guys. I promise it gets much better :D Well then... as usual, I will now proceed to getting on my knees and begging you for reviews! *gets on knees and begs for reviews* Onwards, cheers to a brand new story! **

**~NPNG**


	2. Dodger

**Author's Notes**

**Well then, looks like it wasn't so bad, for a first chapter xD Thanks endlessly for your support, guys ^^ (I know I'm gonna spend hours doing this in the end, but hey, I'm gonna, because I appreciate your reviews very much). **

**I just want to thank bobness, Nanami of Falling Snow, xXxPrettyinPinkxXx, , Ember Hinote, phuongly, ZhangArronXun, baconis1priority, SamuraiSal1 and BadApple123 for their magnificent reviews! (And hello, people of Terra Sigma! :D)**

**Also, if you guys have better summaries than the one I already have... PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE SEND THEM TO ME ;A; I'm desperate OTL  
**

**Here we go for chapter 2: In which Arthur and Alfred piss each other off, Arthur feels like a cow heading for the slaughterhouse, and Alfred is sick and tired of being kept in the dark... both literally and figuratively. **

**Warnings: None just yet. Yet. **

**ENJOY!**

* * *

The next day, the Queen was late in visiting Alfred. The latter made sure to point that out first thing when he saw the blond hair shine through the darkness of the dungeons.

"I don't have to justify my lateness to you." The Queen replied huffily, slipping the food through the usual hole.

"I was just wondering. You know. Getting hungry and all." Alfred shrugged, picking up his food.

"I'm not a servant. Remember that I come here out of my own free will and that I am in no way obliged to come feed you every single day!" the Queen retorted, sticking his nose in the air.

"Yeah, yeah, say what you want." Alfred replied with his mouth full, effectively making the Queen wince. "Anyways. Why were you late?"

The Queen glared at him murderously, crossing his arms and looking away, the blush on his face making him seem somehow... ashamed? He mumbled something incomprehensible, which Alfred made a point to note as he cocked his head and put a hand to his ear.

"Can't hear ya, old man." He mocked.

"I-I'm absolutely not old! You are infuriating!" the other clenched his fists, looking like he wanted to do nothing more than smack Alfred in the face.

"Sure. We'll, you're older than me, at least. So why were you late?" he repeated for the third time.

The Queen squirmed uncomfortably and mumbled again.

"Hmm?"

"Marriage preparations..." the Queen blushed, not wanting to look at the astonished prisoner.

"You're getting married? To who?" he asked, oblivious as ever.

"Who do you think I'm getting married to, idiot?" the Queen all but yelled, frustration at his helplessness welling up within him.

"Don't take it out on me, it was just a question..." Alfred huffed, offended. "Jeez..." And then it hit him, just as he took another bite of food, that there was only one person in the kingdom a Queen could technically marry.

He choked on his food in realization and hacked it out on the ground violently, shaking as he looked up at the Queen.

"W-Wait one moment, you're trying to tell me you're marrying your own _father_?" he spluttered, wondering what kind of sick society royalty was.

"It's just a formality! To bind the King and Queen together, and all..." he trailed off, looking tense and uncomfortable in every way.

"It's still sick." Alfred commented, shrugging.

"Keep your comments to yourself!" the Queen yelled back, clenching his fists. "You have NO idea how royalty works! It's NOT as cracked-up as you _peasants _make it out to be!" he spat, and Alfred didn't notice how, underneath all the anger, there was desperation poking through.

"Well I'm sorry, _Your Highness, _for not being royal enough to understand!" he shot back. "I'm sure living the high life and not working your butt off all day long is real hard!"

"Y-You!" the Queen gritted his teeth, getting angrier by the second. "Shut your mouth! You have no clue what nonsense you're spouting!" he turned around, not wanting Alfred to see the flush on his face and the hurt in his eyes. "I'm leaving." He announced a bit softer, not even turning around before he started heading away.

Alfred raised a brow and watched him leave for a second, before he sighed and ruffled his hair. He hadn't meant to make enemies with the only person that could save his life right now. He just... let his emotions take control. He tended to do that a lot.

"H-Hey... Queenie?" He just wanted to live, that's why he was trying to make amends. Of course. Heroes like him didn't apologize because they didn't make mistakes. Duh.

"What?" a cracking voice answered a few seconds later.

"... What's your name?" Alfred tried, listening hopefully for a response.

At first, there was nothing, and Alfred was afraid he'd missed the response. Or maybe the sound of steady dripping from the ceiling drowned it out.

"Arthur. Arthur Kirkland." The Queen of Spades suddenly replied, and all went silent again.

"Okay." Alfred nodded, and smiled slightly, whispering the word 'Arthur' a couple of times and liking the way it rolled across his tongue.

The Queen soon figured out that there would be nothing else said for today, so he quickly paced away, throwing the dungeon doors open and slamming them shut, missing, at the last second, the murmured 'sorry' that Alfred had sneaked in between his mantra of 'Arthur's.

_...OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO..._

To Alfred's glee, Arthur returned the next day, with the usual plate of food that he slipped through the hole close to the ground.

"Good morning! Or afternoon! Or whatever time it is." He greeted cheerily, mood heightened by the presence of food.

"Afternoon." Arthur grunted, stepping back as he watched Alfred take the food with an appreciative nod.

"Wonderful. Can't really tell the time when it's always so dark in here." Alfred snickered at his own joke. "You guys should have more lights around here."

"It's a dungeon, Alfred, it's not supposed to be refined." Arthur rolled his eyes.

"If you say so." Alfred chewed on some food and made a pleased noise before turning to Arthur. "So. What's up? You sound tired."

"Wedding preparations are still ongoing." Arthur replied, hugging himself self-consciously. "T-They're decorating the church and informing the inhabitants already."

"How much time do you still have left?" Alfred asked in a strangely subdued voice.

"S-Seven days." Arthur blinked, surprised by the sudden change, and then looked down again. "I'm getting married on the seventh day from today."

"You don't look too happy with that decision, though." Alfred noted in a strange act of atmosphere-reading consideration.

"If only it were as easy as simply saying no." Arthur made a 'tch' noise with his lips, and Alfred found himself looking at them for way longer than necessary.

"Well you can't get married against your will, that has to be against the rules of... I don't know. The rules of everything." Why was Alfred trying to back up the person that had gotten him stuck in the jail cell in the first place? He didn't even know what to think of his reactions.

"The so called rules of everything dictate that being royalty means sacrificing your life to serve your people. If, in order to help my people rise, I must be wed to my own father..." he shivered in repulsion for a second. "...Then so be it."

And Alfred shivered, too, because of the determination in his voice. It was something he'd never heard so fiercely before. It sounded like resignation, with a side of desperation and hopelessness, but all of it wrapped in a bundle of determination that would carry out through the end.

"You'd make a good Queen." Alfred found himself saying before he even realized it. "And... Your King would be real lucky to have you."

"Let's see if you really think that in a few more days." Arthur replied with a sad smirk.

"You still haven't told me what this cryptic talk of 'in a few days' is all about." Alfred pouted.

"The entire point is not telling you until you find out for yourself, and that is-"

"-In a few days, yes, yes, I know." Alfred sighed hopelessly and ruffled his hair. "Should've expected as much."

"Deal with it." Arthur sighed, and pulled out a pocket watch from his adjusted white pants. "Now. I must be going. Things to be done and royals to be married-"

"NO!"

There was a suddenly silence as Alfred's voice echoed off the walls, and then faded. The two blonds looked at each other, both of them startled.

"W-What do you mean, no?" Arthur asked tentatively, blushing lightly.

"N-No... You know, as in... Don't go yet..." Alfred mumbled, his cheeks reddening as well. "Because, well, you're the only living being I see all day long, and I don't do well with silence. I need somebody to chat with, and it's not like there are any other prisoners around to pester. So you'll do." Alfred concluded, trying to sound confident.

"So I'm a replacement?" Arthur gritted his teeth, feeling frustration welling up within him. "It doesn't work that way. I'm not at your beck and call, Alfred, and I certainly cannot forgo ruling a kingdom to have idle chit-chat with you."

"Can't you spare this poor guy some sympathy and stay a bit longer?" Alfred pointed to himself, pouting.

"Please, like that face is going to work on me." Arthur raised a brow skeptically, trying to hide the fact that he thought Alfred looked _damn cute _with that expression on his face.

"Well, I tried." And when Arthur made another move to leave, Alfred moved, the rattling of the chain on his ankle snapping Arthur's attention back to him.

"I really must go. I shouldn't even be here in the first place. People will be wondering where I have disappeared to." The Queen replied a bit more forcefully.

"Come on, Artie, stay! Besides, it's your fault I'm stuck in here, so the least you could do is entertain me for a while."

"Entertain you?" Arthur clenched his fists, frustration and rage bubbling up within him. "My fault?" he glared murderously at Alfred, wanting nothing more than to smack him in the face to relieve his anger. "I'm not some king of fool that will jump around and juggle at the snap out your fingers!"

"Alright, alright, fine, just stay and talk, since it's your fault I'm bored out of my mind anyway!" Alfred crossed his arms, glaring right back at Arthur.

"Oh, so now it's _my _fault you're still alive?" Arthur tried to take a deep breath to keep from having his anger take over. "Alright then, have it your way! Blame me for everything! Blame me for not being dead!"

"Whoa, whoa, slow down, Queenie, I didn't mean it that way-"

"And my name is not Artie, nor Queenie, nor any other stupid variant you can find!" Arthur spat. "I'm the bloody Queen of Spades, and I will be addressed as so!"

"Yes, Your Highness." Alfred rolled his eyes as Arthur played the royalty card. It hurt him inside that Arthur thought he was so high and mighty. Then again, he hated Arthur, right? Then he shouldn't care.

"Bloody fool." Arthur swore, taking a deep breath from his nose and massaging his forehead. "Maybe I won't save your life next time, after all."

And, spinning around on his heel, he stomped off, ignoring Alfred as he called him back.

_...OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO..._

The next day, Arthur didn't come back. The constant growling of Alfred's stomach was only one of the minor reminders of that absence. The biggest one was the void he felt like he'd fallen in. Like something was missing.

So he sat in the corner, curled up against the wall, breathing deep and thinking about other things, like Matthew, their quaint, small house in the Ninth District, the baker in the district square, the kid whose cat he always had to rescue off a tree...

Alfred tried very hard not to think about Arthur. The acid burning holes in his stomach didn't help. He didn't mind it, as he had gone hungry one too many times before, but, to tell the truth...

Alfred felt empty. Alone. Claustrophobic between the cold stone walls and the metal bars that were his only way to see the outside world. Alfred was hungry, and getting hungrier with every second that ticked by. He knew the only thing that would bring him satisfaction was Arthur.

_...OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO..._

Alfred was lying weakly on his side, breathing deep and trying to muster up the energy to move, when Arthur's familiar footsteps echoed across the dungeons. He rose into a sitting position as quickly as he could manage, looking up to meet Arthur's eyes when he came in.

After noticing the strangely guilty look in Arthur's eyes, and right before noting the bandages around his head and on his cheek, Alfred noticed the plate of food in his hands. His throat locked as saliva rushed into his mouth at the sight of food.

They stood in silence for a moment, Arthur fidgeting uncomfortably and Alfred just staring at the food. And then, Arthur cleared his throat to speak.

"You started it." He accused immediately, looking extremely uncomfortable. "And I won't take back what I said." He took a deep breath and tightened his grip on the plate. "But... I shouldn't have yelled." He looked away, blushing. "I was nervous a bit, so I hope you'll understand if I say that I did not mean to insult you that much, really, and that I did not mean to be so rude to you."

There was another uncomfortable silence, Arthur fidgeting under Alfred's glare. Perhaps that hadn't been enough. Maybe Alfred really had been insulted by his yelling. For some reason, Arthur felt heavily guilty for Alfred's silence, although his brain was rationalizing that he shouldn't be, since Alfred got on his nerves anyway, right?

"Alfred, understand that neither you nor I are in the most desirable positions right now and that I had the right to-"

"Arthur." Alfred suddenly cut him off, letting the last sounds die in Arthur's throat. He shivered, forgetting to correct Alfred on the use of his name, because Alfred's voice enthralled him, deep and insistent like that.

"Y-Yes, Alfred?" he managed uneasily, unused to the more serious side of Alfred.

"You're forgiven." Alfred declared, and then pointed grumpily at the plate of food in Arthur's hands. "Now feed me."

"What!" Arthur squawked, blushing. "I-I wasn't apologizing, git! And don't think you can give me orders!" he insisted, bending down and pushing the plate of food through the opening nonetheless.

"Ah, that smells so good." Alfred practically cried in joy as he dove upon his food, setting on devouring it immediately. Even when they went hungry at home, Alfred had always been one to complain about it. Poor or rich, Alfred's stomach still would have stayed the very same black hole.

"Your manners are appalling." Arthur criticized, watching Alfred gobble down his food with mild disgust.

"And so are your table-setting habits. This is a salad fork, not a dinner fork! And where's my steak knife?" Alfred retorted, too hungry to note that the utensil Arthur had brought him was indeed the right one, pure silver and brightly shining in the dim glow of the torches on the wall.

Arthur decided not to mention that fact, and simply stayed silent, admiring Alfred from afar, until he finished. When he did, and put his plate down to announce it, Arthur made a move to leave.

"Wait, I meant to ask you something." Alfred immediately called. "Those bandages around your head and on your cheek." He nodded at his face, something warm springing in his heart when Arthur blushed and squirmed uncomfortably. His mind flashed to the scene in the throne room a few days before, and a hypothesis stood out in his mind, clear as day. "Did... Did somebody hurt you?"

"I-Idiot, nobody would dare hurt the Queen of Spades." Lies. One person wouldn't have minded, and they both knew who that was. "I was training outside. With all the getup and wedding preparations nowadays, I've been getting inconsistent with my training. All the more obviously when I tripped and hit my head on the ground this morning." He rubbed the bandaged area of his head tenderly.

And an image of Arthur appeared in Alfred's head, the Queen gracefully moving around, sword in hand, avoiding jabs from his enemy and bright green eyes keeping up with the pace, waiting for an opening, a slip-up, a wrong move of the feet- there- and jumping in, intensity in his eyes as he brought down his weapon...

"Whoa." Alfred gulped down as he was pulled away from his daydream. "I... I didn't think royalty fought." He justified himself when the Queen looked at him skeptically.

"Well I am the Queen, after all. One of my functions is protecting my King at any means necessary, even at the cost of my own life, so I must constantly train to be strong enough." Never mind that they didn't coronate him Queen yet, that he hadn't taken over even half a year ago and that had just started his training a few months ago. His instructor said he was good. He would trust his judgement. "Both King and Queen learn to wield weapons, and often go to war with their troops. And with the threat of a Clubs' declaration of war looming above us, there is no time to waste."

"That makes sense, I guess... I-I mean, I just thought you guys ate cake and collected taxes for a living." Alfred shook his head, disillusioned. "I guess royalty's much more intricate than I thought."

Arthur rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. Alfred was acting as if he had just been illuminated with some kind of holy knowledge.

"So, uhh..." Alfred started again, noting that Arthur was not replying, and hoping to keep him around for as long as possible. He couldn't justify why. Arthur's presence just felt comforting, like a light in the dark dungeons, but brighter than the torches on the wall. "What other positions are there in the royal family?"

Arthur's eyebrows shot up in surprise at the sudden question, and he spluttered.

"W-What? You are actually interested to know?"

"Yeah, sure, why not." Alfred shrugged, figuring that anything that exploited Arthur's voice was good enough. As long as he got to hear it, he'd be fine.

"A-Alright..." Arthur blushed, as if unconvinced. "Well, the others aren't exactly part of the royal family, but they're important, too. We're five people in the Administration Deck, which is the highest member group anybody in this kingdom can be a part of." He started. "First, there's the Jack, who is the closest to the royal pair. He takes care of staff around the castle, international relationships, and is generally the main counsellor for every issue the royal couple has, whether professional or personal." Because god knows the number of times Arthur had gone to the Jack of Spades, Yao Wang, to pour out his frustration and helplessness.

"I didn't see him in the throne room the other day." Alfred remarked.

"With the threat of Clubs looming overhead, our Jack is constantly busy trying to find a way to avoid a war. He couldn't make it." Arthur explained. "After that, we have the Ace, who is the leader of the Spades army. His task is to train recruits, supervise the army, and he's our main tactician during wartime." Although he didn't seem like it at first glance, Mathias was indeed a fierce adversary.

"Were you training with him this morning?" Alfred asked, wanting to hold someone responsible for Arthur's injuries.

"Yes. He's much more experienced as I am in the art of swordfight, so he teaches me all I have to know to protect my King." Arthur nodded, scratching his bandaged cheek idly. "And finally, we have the Ten, who, as you must already know, is the general supervisor for all the districts, assuring security and tax collection."

"So he's the one swallowing all our hard-earned money?" Alfred huffed childishly, pouting as he crossed his arms.

"Don't say that. Those taxes pay your services, you know." Arthur frowned.

"Those taxes paid the meal whose leftovers I ate a minute ago." Alfred insisted.

"Tch." Arthur crossed his arms, knowing that with his father in power, corruption would still happen, no matter how hard he tried denying it. "Well he just collects the money. He doesn't keep track of it."

"Who does, then?" Alfred asked, way too curious for someone in his position.

Something in Arthur's mind told him that he had better reply, though. So he did.

"The Jack does. He's the kingdom's treasurer, but not many people know this, because then, the money would be at risk."

"But you're telling me?" Alfred pointed out. "I thought you didn't trust me."

"Y-Yeah, well, I don't. Don't get your hopes up." Arthur grumbled, the darkness hiding his blush.

"I wasn't gonna." Alfred huffed, turning his head to hide his disappointment.

And then, when the silence started sinking in again, Alfred realized that Arthur wouldn't speak unless he did. So he complied.

"Tell me more about Spades, will ya?"

"Spades? Like in... the history and politics and economy and demographics, and such?" Arthur blinked, even more surprised.

"Well, yeah, that's what I said." Alfred raised a brow sarcastically.

"A-Alright, I guess..." Arthur twiddled nervously with his thumbs, wondering if there was an ulterior motive for all the questions Alfred asked. "Well, Spades is the second largest kingdom between the four, and we share borders with Clubs and Diamonds. Hearts is separated from us by the Diamond kingdom, but we can always sail across the Flush to reach them, that being the sea at the north east of Spades. In terms of population, we're the third most populated, and Diamonds is caching up quickly-"

"Your Majesty!"

Arthur's voice froze in its tracks as both the young men turned around to see the newcomer, Alfred glaring murderously at the maid for interrupting his time with Arthur.

"What is it?" Arthur asked, and Alfred swore he sounded disappointed.

"Your majesty, the King requests your presence. He wishes to discuss your wedding at the current moment." The maid panted for breath after having delivered her message. Arthur stared at her for a second, a stone-cold mask slipping on his face as he nodded regally.

"Very well. Tell his majesty that I will be there shortly."

And Alfred somehow knew that for the past few days, he'd been bearing witness to a side of Arthur that not many people knew existed. His heart warmed up at the thought. He shook his head, though, reminding himself that Arthur was the reason he was stuck in there, and that there was no reason to like him whatsoever.

He barely heard the maid scurry away and the slamming of the heavy dungeon entrance. He snapped back into attention when Arthur sighed, though.

"You okay?" he couldn't help but ask, looking doubtful as he watched Arthur run his fingers through his hair wearily.

"I'm fine." Arthur quickly assured him. "I guess I must be taking my leave. I will be back tomorrow."

"But you don't have to go if you don't want to." Alfred immediately objected, looking hopeful.

Arthur gazed at him a few seconds longer, and then suddenly erupted into a very bittersweet scoff.

"I wish it were that easy." He shook his head. "You seem to have this idea that royalty get to do whatever they want all the time." He spun around and started heading away. "In a couple more days, Alfred, you could learn that royalty isn't as freeing as it seems."

And Alfred let him go because he had nothing to say anymore.

_...OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO..._

The next day, when Arthur came to visit him, the first thing Alfred noticed was how tense he seemed to look. And he made a point of mocking him about it, too.

"So. The monsters in the closet didn't let you sleep last night?"

"Come off it, you child." Arthur's eyebrow twitched as he bent down to slip Alfred his food.

"Thanks." Alfred muttered out of habit as he grabbed his food. The fact that he was only getting a meal per day wasn't helping his mood much. He just hoped he would get out soon. The cell was dreadfully boring, and the occasional rats were quite the bland conversation partners.

"So do you want to receive answers to your previous questions?" Arthur immediately jumped into the subject.

"What previous questions?" Alfred raised a brow, speaking while chewing, a move that made Arthur wince in disgust.

"Yesterday's. About the kingdom and all that."

"Oh, that." Alfred swallowed his bite and thought for a moment. "Actually, no. I'm more interested in getting to know more about you, Arthur." He looked up, his stare digging intensely into Arthur's skin for just a second before he smiled again.

Arthur shivered, ignoring the coiling in his gut at the sight of that glare. He felt hot, and it wasn't even all that warm in the dungeons.

"Please don't use my name. Either address me as 'Your Highness', or my title." He stepped back, both physically and verbally trying to distance himself from the boy who was giving him chills. He didn't know what was happening. He just knew he had to step back for a while and assess the situation.

Alfred raised a brow, refusing to fall for Arthur's coldness now that he knew it was fake, and kept going undeterred.

"So Arthur. Tell me about yourself?"

"Your Highness, thank you very much." Arthur insisted once more.

"Well if you've taken the time to come talk to a 'lowly peasant' such as me, somewhere deep inside, there must be a part of you saying it's okay if I call you by your name. I know that there is a human just like me hiding beneath all that silk." Alfred huffed, surprising Arthur with his words. He hadn't thought Alfred had the brain capacity to think of something like that. He guessed that everything about this boy could easily be underestimated.

"I-I-" he hesitated, at a loss of words at Alfred's metaphor.

"Come on." Alfred chuckled, noting his hesitation. He then stretched out as far as he could go with the chain restraining him, and put a hand out through the bars. "Hi, I'm Alfred. Nice to meet you." He grinned brightly, momentarily lighting up the dim dungeon.

Arthur looked at the hand, biting his lip, wanting to do nothing more than shake it and introduce himself as Arthur Kirkland. But he couldn't. He had a duty as Queen of Spades. His title was, more often than not, a curse more than a blessing.

"I-I can't... I can't be your friend, Alfred." He mumbled, looking away from the offered hand in shame.

"Hey, if this is still about royalty..." Alfred drew back and crossed his arms, a bit disappointed, especially when Arthur nodded almost unnoticeably. "Oh for hell's sake." He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. "You know, if I were royalty, I wouldn't be so full of myself."

And Arthur only smiled at him like someone who knew something the other didn't.

"You'll be getting out tomorrow." He obviously changed the subject, speaking in a smooth, controlled voice.

Alfred only raised a brow, but didn't comment.

"You know, when I leave, I think I'm actually going to miss you and your crazy eyebrows." He commented with a smirk.

"My eyebrows are far from crazy, you git." Arthur responded with the very same smirk, if not a bit strained. "Besides. We will probably see each other more often than you think." He added cryptically.

"You know something that I don't know and that concerns me." Alfred pouted. "Tell me!"

"Tomorrow." Arthur promised. "Everything is going to go down tomorrow. Destinies will be fulfilled and history will be made tomorrow."

Silence followed his words as both of them contemplated this vague idea of 'tomorrow', the same word bearing a different sense for both of them.

"Am I..." Alfred finally broke the silence, clearing his throat nervously. "Am I going to be executed tomorrow?"

"Someone may or may not die tomorrow." Arthur answered, sidestepping the answer burning on his tongue. "But one thing's for sure. If my name is Arthur Kirkland, then your death will not be tomorrow." He smiled to himself, and Alfred found himself enjoying the smile that wasn't even meant for his eyes. "Besides, I am the Queen of Spades. Royalty serves the people, and so, I cannot afford to let an innocent be killed on my watch."

"Well then, looks like we've both got big days tomorrow." Alfred rolled his eyes, not amused by the mystery in Arthur's words. He was curious, damn it, he wanted to know what was going to happen the next day!

"Indeed." Arthur didn't catch the sarcasm, lost in his own thoughts. "You'd better get a lot of rest. As another day dawns anew, your life may or may not be flipped completely upside down."

* * *

**Author's Notes**

**Am I doing it on purpose, ending every chapter with a cliffie? Yeah, well, maybe I am. I admit I am. I'm just horrible like that :P**

**Alright, so if the positions weren't clear:**

**Queen- England**

**(current) King- England's daddy**

**Jack- China**

**Ace- Denmark**

**Ten- unspecified**

**And one thing to mention about King and Queen: It's not about gender, it's about given responsibilities. Also, the King and Queen must get married and must be coronated, together if they are both new to the Throne, alone if only one of them is new. Marriage is only for principle and doesn't actually mean anything, and consummation isn't obligatory. So Kings and Queens can have other lovers with no problem, as it is not frowned upon. Marriage apparently helps develop the "magic" between the King and Queen (something that'll be mentioned later on), as do all the things that come with marriage. This magic increases the harmony between them, and makes ruling smoother. So for the sake of the country, marriage and its perks are obligatory. You'll see as you read. **

**Also, I don't like how Arthur's been reacting (he feels a little too bipolar for my tastes...) so... any opinion is welcome D: Constructive criticism is, too! Or just comments, telling me what you liked/didn't like, that's alright, too. Just click the sexy little button right below this text and please review! :D**


	3. Midnight

**Author's Notes**

**See how much I sacrifice for you gaiz? I took some time at the office to post this for ya (and got good at being sneaky about it xD). Here. Enjoy (:**

**Once more, let me thank all the beautiful reviewers I love so much. Huge thanks to ZhangArronXun, WRITING IS TIRESOME YEAH, Canada Cowboy, bobness, Rainstorm-Mosspath, Symphonyk, BadApple123, phuongly, Nanami Of Falling Snow, SamuraiSal1, Ember Hinote and mlpnkobnhjui for their amazing comments and constructive criticism. Couldn't do it without you, all (: **

**Also, guys, if you want to know when a new chapter is out, please alert the story and/or me, because I don't do individual PM-ing. If I did that for everyone that has already asked me to do it, I'd never finish, and I really don't have time to do much nowadays o_o **

**Nonetheless, here you go! The long-awaited moment, the mysterious... 'tomorrow' that everyone's been so excited about ;) Well then... enjoy!**

**Warnings: Blood, violence, minor character death, swearing.**

* * *

Contrarily to what he prescribed to Alfred that afternoon, Arthur did not go to sleep that night. After dark, he signalled all the castle guards to be on high alert, and gave the Ace a few changes to make on the night patrols in the district. The entire castle seemed to have gone up a notch in security. The last part of the puzzle piece was him.

After having given his orders, he headed up to the King's quarters. His chambers were not far from the King's, so he made quick work of changing into something lighter than his royal garments and then made his way to his father's chambers.

Creeping in, he made sure that the window was locked and covered, that the balcony doors were bolted shut, and that his father was fast asleep. He then slipped right back out, locking the door to his quarters and slipping the key around his neck. Then, mentally preparing himself for a long night, Arthur sat down by the door and tried not to fall asleep.

It was quite the challenge. The past few days had exhausted him both mentally and physically, and after the first few hours of alternating between sitting down and pacing aimlessly, Arthur started to feel his sleep deprivation catching up. He yawned and stretched, feeling the heaviness of his burning eyes, but unwilling to give in to sleep. He had a duty as Queen to remain on guard that night. Destiny was being set into play.

He leaned against the wall a moment, closing his eyes and letting momentary relief flood through his body. His limbs immediately went heavy and his mind darkened. If it weren't for the sudden noises of the night that snapped him out of his trance, Arthur would surely have fallen asleep.

Stumbling a bit as he waited for the blurriness of his vision to clear, Arthur tried to sharpen his hearing to catch any kind of sound that seemed unnatural to the environment of a night time palace hallway. Though, try as he might, he still could not hear a single peep.

The wind ruffled the leaves on the white-blossom trees outside.

And suddenly, something broke through the glass of the big windows lining the hallway.

Arthur immediately jumped into high alert, pulling out his sword and trying to calm his beating heart. He only took a moment to assess the number of people that had poured in from the newly-made entrance, and then jumped before they had time to react.

His first hit was a punch that one of the four attackers narrowly avoided. The men immediately assumed their battle stances as well, and Arthur slid back to take another running jump at them.

This time, he attacked with a sword, bringing it down upon his enemy's head. The man he attacked pulled out a dagger at the last second and blocked, and although Arthur put all his strength behind the swing, he still couldn't make the other budge.

At an obvious disadvantage of number, Arthur crouched low and swung his leg, forcing the man to jump over it. As he jumped, though, the Queen stood back up and took him by the shoulder, locking his leg behind the other's knee and making him buckle.

They both went toppling to the ground, Arthur landing in quite the unrefined fashion on the attacker.

Spending no time dawdling, he got right back up and put his sword up threateningly, as if daring for the other three to advance. They all pulled out their own blades, and for a moment, nobody moved, everybody looking at the others for any signs of brusque movement.

And suddenly, the three remaining attackers moved, all coming at Arthur at the same time. Arthur jumped back at the first swing and clashed his blade against the other's, but then had to sidestep again as another sword grazed his cheek. He immediately swung his blade at the other, satisfied when he drew blood and heard the taller one's stifled cry of pain, and stepped back to allow the third attacker to fall straight at his comrade. The two clashed blades confusedly, and Arthur's couldn't help but chuckle.

He jumped back in, parrying at attack and lunging when the second man avoided his parry. They clashed again, one trying to overpower the other as they pushed on their blades. Arthur found himself losing after a bit, and wasn't surprised, considering his general lack of muscle. He drew back and only had a split second to react as he heard whistling from behind him.

He spun around and clumsily fell back as a blade that would have cut him in half ripped through his clothes and drew blood across his chest. He held his breath and bit his lip so he didn't cry in pain, and immediately ducked to avoid another swing. His chest was burning, and he hoped somebody had heard the sounds of struggle and had sent for help. Even he knew he couldn't do this alone.

He sprang up and tried to cut one of the three across the thighs, making a disappointed 'tch' noise when his target jumped backwards to avoid his swing. What disheartened him the most, though, was that he hadn't been able to hold his own for a while, despite the fact that his assailants were obviously well-trained assassins. He'd been training for half a year, even a bit more, so he was somewhat disappointed that his hard work had not paid off as much as he wanted it to.

He got back up and swung his sword at one of them, following him as he jumped back, and going into a hasty block when the other counterattacked. He was quickly going numb and his strength was leaving him. He knew that the end to the battle was coming very soon. He just hoped it was in his favour.

He broke away from the blade lock and ducked at the following swing, but just as he got up, the third one, that had circled him from the back, lunged, forcing him to step backwards.

Arthur all but threw himself against the hilt of the sword that had been held out behind him.

His head rang out and he cried as he hit the back of his skull against it. His nerves, already on overdrive because of the cut on his chest, immediately bristled, causing a fresh wave of pain and nausea to take him over. All matter of coordination lost him for a second, and Arthur had hit the ground before he even knew it.

Gasping, he tried to push himself up, but he realized he was shaking. His vision was blurry, and his limbs, weak. His sword had fallen a few feet from him, and his eyes immediately went there, knowing he had to pick it up and fight again.

He hadn't crawled a single step forward when a foot came down on his back, slamming him onto the ground and making him black out for just a moment. A moment was more than enough. When he opened his eyes and blinked to clear his spinning vision, he was lying on his back, hands outstretched.

"Fuck." He swore under his breath, struggling weakly as his aggressor stepped on his ribcage, aggravating the wound already there and making Arthur choke in pain.

"Well, well, well. Look here, the Queen of Spades is under our grasp." The one stepping on his jeered, making the other one laugh as he awakened his knocked-out companion.

"Bastard..." the latter muttered as he awoke to the scent of smelling salts.

"Quite. Now. What do we do with the Queen of Spades? This wasn't specified in our contract." the assassin stepped harder on Arthur when he started moving too much, effectively subduing him as he tried curling up to ease the pain.

"Make it quick. It wasn't mentioned, but we must complete our mission quickly, so let us not dawdle." The one who was obviously the leader bent down and snapped the key to the King's chambers right off of Arthur's neck, making the latter struggle harder.

"Well, we can't have him interfering, can we?" the man shrugged, bending down to pick up Arthur's sword. The Queen's struggling resumed tenfold at the sight of a weapon, and he desperately tried to pry the foot off of him.

The gesture was countered, though, when the other assassin came over and stepped on his right wrist, effectively pinning his arm down. Heart beating madly, Arthur looked confusedly from his hand to the men above, before his eyes widened in realization and everything clicked together in his head.

He tried closing his hand into a fist, but the one stepping on his wrist bend down and pried his fingers open, leaving his palm out flat against the ground. The one towering above him slowly brought his very own silver sword over and positioned it right above his open palm.

Arthur's struggling became almost demented, and that's when his heart started hammering against his ribs.

"No, no, no, no, no..." he whispered weakly, almost begging as he saw the moonlight glint off his silver sword, hovering over his palm. "No, no, no, no, no-" and he watched helplessly as the man impaled his hand and pinned him to the ground.

Arthur screamed.

The men were off of him and swarming into the King's chambers within seconds, but Arthur could not bring himself to care. His head, his chest, his legs hurt, but most of all, the adrenaline pumping through his veins was failing to suppress the utter _agony _he felt because of his hand.

He instinctively curled up, every movement like another needle shoved under his fingernails, and at that moment, he knew that people, if not the entire castle, had heard him. That didn't change the fact that he was agonizing, watching his blood seep into the rich blue carpet and his very own weapon, tainted with his own blood, glint in the innocent moonlight.

The sight of his impaled hand sent another wave of cries pouring out of his mouth, and he faintly noted that he was crying. And he stopped caring for a while there, imprisoned in his own bubble of pain and fear. He didn't respond, even when the assassins slipped out of his father's room and out the way they came in without a second glance at Arthur, who was left crying and whimpering weakly on the ground until help arrived.

Three stories down, something pulsed weakly inside of Alfred, making him shoot up awake with a gasp.

He slowly put a hand to his heart, and tried to catch his breath, wondering what has just happened. He hadn't had a nightmare, so he couldn't imagine what it was that had made him wake up so brusquely.

He couldn't fathom why his heart was hurting so much.

He tried to find a reason, but he couldn't. So, with an instinctive look in the general direction of the door that Arthur would come through when he visited him, Alfred put his head back down on the straw and willed himself back to sleep.

To his dismay, Arthur did not visit him when he woke, nor during what he figured was lunch time, nor during the afternoon. His stomach was grumbling uncomfortably, and Alfred wondered if he'd done something to upset Arthur again, like last time.

Left to his wonderings, he almost didn't notice when the door to the dungeons swung open, the squeaking of the rusty hinges never having been so comforting to his ears.

"Arthur!" he cried enthusiastically, ready to yell about how much he'd missed him, when he realized that the newcomer was not Arthur.

Instead, it was a long, black haired woman.

"Alfred F Jones, I will now let you out, aru."

Scratch that, the newcomer was a man.

"Please follow me quickly, for we do not have time for idle chitchat." The man then picked up a set of keys and promptly unlocked the cell door, walking in and bending down to unlock the shackle Alfred presented to him as well.

"Thanks, man." Alfred sighed as the weight was lifted off his ankle. He rubbed it where the metal had chafed his skin, but didn't have time to nurse it completely before the black-haired man had pulled him up by the arm.

"Quickly, now." He pressed, dragging Alfred out as he stumbled, legs numb from disuse.

"Okay, I'm not really complaining, but who are you? And where's Arthur?" Alfred whined as he was led up the stairs and out the dungeon doors. For a moment, he closed his eyes, unaccustomed to the bright light, before he was pulled forward again.

"My name is Yao Wang, and I am the Jack of Spades." The man introduced himself without looking at him. "And we are going to see Arthur right now."

"Yey!" Alfred cheered as he was pushed into what looked like a small bathroom.

"We do not have time to give you a proper bath, but please clean yourself up as much as you can until I bring back some fresh clothes for you." Yao told him as he stepped back. "The towels are over there. Don't move." And he stepped out. A second later, there was the sound of a door locking.

"I can't exactly go anywhere if you lock the door." Alfred raised a brow, but figured he may as well get clean. It had been about a week since he'd gotten into that hellhole. A bath would have been most welcome, but the best he could do right now was wipe himself off. He just hoped he would be allowed a bath soon.

He stripped himself of his clothes, dumping them in a corner, and fiddled with the knobs on the wall, amazed when water came out, the temperature regulated by the knobs. He had fun with them for a bit before he remembered the urgency with which Yao had brought him there. He figured he could ask to play with the knobs once more after all this was over.

He scrubbed the grime off his face first, then his hands, arms, and bare feet, marveling at the amount of dirt that came off, leaving in its wake smooth, sun-tanned skin. He then passed a wet hand through his hair, wincing at how greasy it felt. He then grabbed a towel and wetted it, running it across his body quickly before grabbing another one that he dried himself with.

When Yao came in, he hurriedly tied the towel across his waist and waited for further instructions. The latter regarded him critically, eyeing him up and down before sighing.

"I suppose this'll do for now." He sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Now quickly, wear these." He handed him some navy blue clothing, standing back and crossing his arms.

"Here? And now?" Alfred blushed, fidgeting as he looked around. No curtains in the room.

"There isn't anything I haven't seen, boy, so just get changed already, aru!" the man ordered again, obviously nervous.

"If you say so..." Alfred hesitated another second before turning around and dropping his towel. He got changed quicker than he ever had, the blush on his cheeks contrasting brightly with the deep blue of the sweater vest he wore over his lighter blue button-up. He struggled a bit longer with the pants as they were tailored to fit snugly, and gazed in wonder at the shoelaces on the white shoes Yao handed him.

With a hopeless sigh, the Jack got on his knees in front of Alfred and tied his shoelaces quickly and with precision, making Alfred wonder if he was willing to teach him the proper way of tying shoelaces. Having worn sandals all his life, shoelaces were quite intriguing to him. He suddenly felt like quite the idiot, and his mood dampened.

"Quit moping. If you're ready, we should go." Yao motioned him over to the door, and Alfred, too curious for his own good, only followed in silence.

Yao led him through the sinewy hallways of the castle, and by the fast pace he had adopted, Alfred barely had time to marvel at the richly decorated halls and servants scurrying about. One thing he noticed, though, was how everybody wore black. He only briefly had time to wonder why that was before he was pulled outside, under a shielded wooden patio.

Alfred's eyes widened as he took in the garden waiting before him. The beauty of the many different coloured plants, flowers and trees was indescribable. When it didn't rain, Alfred was sure that the garden would be even prettier.

"Hurry along now." Yao rushed him, picking up and umbrella from the doorway and ushering Alfred out into the rain, holding the umbrella for him.

"Y-You know, I can hold that umbrella... You're not even getting any of it..." Alfred muttered awkwardly as Yao led him into the rain, apparently not minding the droplets soaking his clothes.

"Less talk, more walk, aru." The Jack simply replied, putting Alfred's nerves even more on edge. What was going on here? Why wasn't anybody telling him anything? And where was Arthur? He was the only one he remotely knew in this strange environment, so where was his safety net?

Slowly, the flowers became less abundant, and the grass started taking over. The trees became scarce, and somehow, the rain felt heavier as it thudded on the umbrella. Alfred felt apprehension rising in him. Apprehension turned to fear as they turned a corner, and a slab of elegantly carved stone stuck in the ground appeared in Alfred's vision field.

Many more followed, one shrine more grandiose than the other. Alfred shivered as Yao navigated past the grave stones, never having liked graveyards. Although he wasn't afraid of ghosts, of course. Hah. Heroes didn't get scared of ghosts. Not at all.

He was too busy noting the sudden change of environment to realize that there was a group of people at the end of the graveyard. Only when voices floated into his ears, through the pouring rain, did he realize they had gotten to their destination.

He looked at the massed people, noting how he didn't know any of them. They all looked the same, dressed in black from head to toe and the ladies wearing black veils over their heads. A couple of them were crying, and the men sternly regarded the gravestone in front of them. There was the High Priest of Spades, dressed in official ceremonial robes, at the head of the tombstone, and the gravediggers flanked him, shovels at ready.

And then, in the front, to Alfred's immense relief, stood Arthur, on his knees in front of the deep hole, head bowed. Unlike many of the people there, he didn't have an umbrella, and the rain plastered his clothes over his thin frame. A gust of wind blew, and for a moment, his wet hair flew out of his face, giving Alfred a clear view of both his monstrous eyebrows and his dulled green eyes.

"And may the gods above grant His Majesty eternal sleep, free from the obligations of the mortal world, his spirit to watch over us as his body rests in peace, _fin_." The High Priest recited, closing his book and bowing his head. The attendees all bowed their heads as well, murmuring the word 'fin' between their ranks.

Arthur was the first to notice them. Though his gaze was dull, detached, he got up and threw them a look from the corner of his eye.

The grave diggers immediately set to work, piling in the clumps of muddy soil that hit the ebony casket at the bottom with wet splatters. Everybody observed their work for a moment before the Jack of Spades cleared his throat to get everybody's undivided attention.

It worked to perfection, especially when the mass of people noticed Alfred, standing there, shielded from the rain by the Jack himself, looking entirely misplaced and awkward. Mumbles went out in the crowd, whispering and not-so-subtle motioning following soon after.

"Friends." Yao called, voice loud over the rain. "Let us remember that after sorrow, there is always hope that dawns anew, aru." He let them digest this for a moment, watching as all eyes ran over Alfred. "Now, let us kneel in the name of the King of Spades." His voice was imposing, and Alfred shivered, finally realizing why this man had become Jack of Spades.

Slowly, one by one, the people dressed in black got down on their knees, even the women, obviously not reluctant to get themselves dirty in the mud. What confused Alfred, though, was that they were bowing in their direction instead of that of what he realized was the King of Spades' grave. When kneeling to the King, shouldn't they face him?

His eyes immediately turned to Arthur's for comfort, and their gazes met for a moment- one confused, the other, lost. Frustration coursed anew within Alfred because Arthur was not answering his unsaid question at all.

Suddenly, Arthur, too, gave him a last look, and then got on his knee, head bowed.

And at that moment, Alfred realized that they weren't bowing to the King in the grave, but to the King standing in front of them.

They were bowing to him.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

**Yeah, that was way too predictable. I like how I ended this chapter, though :D Also, forgive me, but fight scene aren't my forte xD And yes, I know Yao was a bit on-edge, but that's to be expected, I mean, the King was assassinated, the Queen was badly hurt, and an immature, confused-looking commoner is going to take the Throne now. Wouldn't you be nervous and frustrated as well? xD (Okay, maybe not.)**

**And yep. That's that, guys. Wow. I really don't have much to say, eh? Surprising. In that case, I shall return to the real world now. My lunch break awaits :3 I'll just leave you guys to read and pleaseeeeee review :3**


	4. Palatinate

**Author's Notes**

**I got my hands on Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword a while ago, and I've finally gotten time to get deeper into the game. It's amazing. Hwhffhoir. I'm starting to read LoZ fanfiction again, hahaha xD (I'm still a derp at using the Wii Motion Plus commands, though. It's hard, hush xD)**

**Also, my Avengers cosplayer gang and I decided to have an Avengers-movie marathon last night, and we watched Captain America, Thor, Ironman 1, Spiderman and Ironman 2, back-to-back. So. This author has just experienced her very first white night and is not taking it very well. Going over 26 hours without sleep does not agree with me. Just thought I'd share.  
**

**And of course, the usual credit roll for the beautiful reviewers that I love so much ^^ Big thanks to bobness, Canada Cowboy, Nanami of Falling Snow, OmgPandi, ZhangArronXun, mlpnkobnhjui, WRITING IS TIRESOME YEAH, phuongly, SamuraiSal1, Rainstorm-Mosspath, Ember Hinote for their amazing revews, comments, and criticism. I always adore reading your reviews because they make me smile :D**

**And no, the assassins last chapter weren't anyone in particular, although you're welcome to think the contrary, if you like xD  
**

**Also, cookie to anyone who can guess what's the deal with the chapter titles (:  
**

**AND HAPPY CANADA DAYYYYYYY. Happy birthday to the most amazing country on this planet. Cheers to many other centuries of triumph and glory for Canada (:  
**

**Warnings for this chapter include: Slightly 'squelchy' material, slight blood, and swearing. Enjoy!**

* * *

That night, Alfred was led to Arthur's chambers. It was the first time he'd seen Arthur after the graveyard encounter, for right afterwards, Yao had whisked him back inside, and maids, all dressed in black, swarmed him and brought him to a bathroom where they washed him with things he'd never even heard of before, and perfumed him with scents he didn't even know existed.

His hair, long and unkempt, had been trimmed to the bottom of his neck. The stubborn cowlick on top of his head, though, still refused to stay down. The maids gave up after a bit and just moved on. They cut his fingernails and toenails, trimmed the hair under his arms, shaved the small fuzz on his chin, and all this at the same time.

Alfred had felt lost as the endless pairs of hands worked on him. Frozen. Detached. He didn't know what to think anymore. Shock had not stopped coursing through him, from the moment of revelation to then. As he'd lain perfectly still in the violet-tinted water of his bath, unable to recollect himself, his mind had gone entirely blank.

After having been dressed in slightly richer clothes, Alfred had been taken to Yao, who had then told him it was time to go see Arthur, for real, this time. Still unresponsive, Alfred had mechanically followed him through the palace hallways, this time uninterested by the decorated walls and lush carpet under his feet.

Alfred only slightly woke up from his shock-induced trance when he stepped inside Arthur's room and found him, laying in bed, a physician next to him. He was naked from the waist up, but a roll of clean bandages was wrapped around his torso. Arthur's lips were set in a thin frown as he watched the physician note something on his pad, and he only noticed Alfred when he took a few hurried steps to his side.

Quite predictably, Alfred's first question was "What's going on?"

"Arthur tried to defend the late King last night. His efforts were met with failure as the assassins overpowered him." The Jack replied in his place.

Arthur only turned his head away, guilt and utter shame swimming in the clear green of his eyes. Alfred's heart leaped at the sight of that look.

"Your Majesty, your hand, please." The physician ordered quietly, putting his hand out. Arthur looked at him for a moment, and then gently put his right hand in the physician's. Alfred noticed it had been heavily bandaged, and slightly tinted copper. Blood. His heart rose in his throat.

The physician gently started unwrapping the bandages, and Alfred only watched with growing apprehension as with every layer taken off, Arthur's frown seemed to deepen. Throughout the last layers of bandages, Arthur was practically biting his lip through as pain shot through his entire system.

Alfred did not seem to be able to say a word, frozen in shock as he watched Arthur's pale hand become completely exposed. There was a large red patch on the back of his hand, the skin around it raw, irritated, and covered in blood, and when the physician gently turned Arthur's hand around, he noticed that same thing had appeared on his palm.

When he put two and two together, Alfred got the sudden urge to vomit.

Yao seemed to notice the new King's distress and promptly grabbed a chair for him.

"Sit down, your Highness." He half-ordered in a firm, yet gentle voice.

Alfred threw him a terrified look at the use of that term, but feeling his legs quaking beneath him, he decided to sit down before he fell.

"It will take some time to heal." The physician mumbled, rummaging in his case and pulling out a tin can. He opened it and dipped one of his fingers in it, bringing out a slimy, pale green cream that he applied on Arthur's hand.

Arthur left out a stifled gasp and clenched his eyes shut, his free hand fisting in the sheets. Alfred's eyes were stuck to his face, where he observed the expression of utter agony with some sort of morbid fascination. He hated that look on Arthur. He told himself he could take it away. Like a true hero.

And then he corrected himself. Arthur was an ass, right? Especially since he seemed to know about all this, and didn't tell him at all. So... he should have been happy that he was hurting, right?

He couldn't bring himself to think that.

"I guess I won't be writing for a while." Arthur shakily chuckled, obviously trying to cover up the fact that he was suffering. "Shame..."

"Arthur." Alfred immediately cut in, feeling his voice lock in his throat. Arthur looked up at him tiredly, the bags under his eyes proof of how stressed he had been for the past weeks, leaving the physician to rub the medicine on his wound and then start wrapping his hand again.

"What is it?" Arthur raised a brow, gritting his teeth to keep a whimper from escaping.

"What's going on?" Alfred asked, letting free the question he so desperately wanted answered.

Arthur looked at him for a moment longer, and then turned his gaze away, cheeks reddening in... guilt?

"The Clockworks of Spades chose you to be the new King of Spades a week ago." Yao explained in Arthur's stead.

"The... Clockworks of Spades?" Alfred blinked, uncomprehending. He was sure that Matthew had mentioned it when talking about one of the books he'd read, but... he couldn't remember what that was for the life of him.

"Yes. It is the large clock in the hidden room of the Temple of Spades, and when the time comes for a new King to rise to power, it shows the face of the person who will take the former one's place. Seven days after the face is shown, the new King rises to power." Yao explained, watching as Alfred nervously played with his shaking fingers.

"Seven days..." he muttered, realizing why he'd been kept in the dungeon for so long. "The seventh day is... Today." He turned his wide, confused gaze up to Yao, who only nodded.

"Yes. His late Majesty refused to be toppled when your face was shown, so he ordered your death so he would continue being King." The Jack finished calmly, as if Alfred's life had been nothing more than a game to be played with.

"And you saved me..." Alfred remembered how Arthur had gone up against his father in order to keep him alive. Because he'd known. Arthur had played him, too. "You knew." He accused, turning his gaze around to glare at Arthur. "You saved me because you knew all this was going to happen."

And Arthur refused to bear his gaze because Alfred didn't sound angry. If he were angry, Arthur would have been able to shield himself from his words, as he always did when people got angry at him. He was used to defending himself from anger. But Alfred didn't sound angry.

His tone sounded _betrayed_.

And it shouldn't have mattered to Arthur, because of course, Alfred was an obnoxious prat and he hadn't saved him for his sake, but for the sake of not disrupting destiny, but...

Alfred's tone jumped right over the iron barricades, ripped through the chains and locks and bolts, and stabbed him directly in his raw, tender heart.

"I didn't... I didn't want to confuse you." Arthur mumbled, having the decency to look ashamed. "My father was trying to change destiny. If I'd told you, and it hadn't worked out, you would've... Your life would've felt like a lie to you, and every moment you spent outside the castle from then on would have given you bitter disappointment."

"You confused me more by suddenly springing this on me a few hours ago." Alfred gritted his teeth, refusing to believe that Arthur had acted for his sake. They didn't like each other. Therefore, Arthur had no reason to care for his wellbeing. "How do you suggest I swallow the fact that I'm now expected to lead the second most powerful fucking country on this planet when a week ago, I was helping my little brother plant carrots?" he clenched his fists, heart beating hard.

Arthur looked up at him, eyes bright with a plea for him to understand that he'd had no other choice. Alfred disregarded his plea and returned the gaze with a disappointed, betrayed look. Arthur looked away again.

"Then you'll just have to adapt quickly." He replied coldly, and his tone might have passed as careless if there hadn't been a slight tremor in it. "You're King now. Get over it."

"I can't do that." Alfred shook his head frantically. "I can't stay here. I have a job, a house, and a little brother to feed. I have to go back."

"You have a salary as King. You can send Matthew money as long as it's your money." Arthur suggested.

"Send him money as a replacement for my presence?" Alfred gritted his teeth. "I won't do that. I have to go back to him and make sure he's okay."

"Alfred, understand that with a new position comes new responsibilities, and you can't keep everything you used to have in-"

"I won't leave him!" Alfred cut him off, getting up suddenly and making Arthur jump in surprise. All eyes turned to him for a moment, and he became aware of the tears pricking his eyes. "You're suggesting I let my brother go so I can become something I didn't want to become? Don't you understand it's not that easy? Matthew is all I have! Nothing you offer me will make me leave his side!"

Arthur looked at him a moment longer, chewing on his lip, then, without dropping his gaze, he called.

"Yao."

The Jack took a step forward to acknowledge the summon.

"There must be something open down in the stables, or the kitchen. Find a job for Alfred's brother and assign him a room in the servant's quarters." He ordered, glaring at Alfred as if daring him to retort.

Alfred took the bait.

"W-Wait, you can't just tell him to leave everything and come here!"

"I very well can, Alfred." Arthur furrowed his eyebrows, irritated. "You can't get away. There is a reason the Clockworks have chosen you. I don't know what that is, but you're the one they have picked. You'll do great things for our country, and whatever I have to do to keep you here, I will do." He then turned to Yao, finally breaking his stare with Alfred. "Please do so tomorrow morning, Yao. I want him settled by tomorrow evening."

"Of course." Yao inclined his head only lightly, a formality more than anything else in between the two of them.

Arthur nodded back to him, and then winced as the physician finished bandaging his hand.

"We'll be starting your education tomorrow." The Jack quickly changed the subject while Arthur was preoccupied with his injury. "As King, you'll have to know the entire country like the back of your hand. Also, you'll be meeting the Council for the first time, aru. Thus, I suggest you get some sleep. You'll need all your energy tomorrow."

"Where do I get to sleep?" Alfred asked, regretting his questions because his answer was obvious. He was terrified of the answer, too. As if every answer he got to his questions consolidated the fact that his life had become a mess that he didn't know how to deal with.

"Yao, please take Alfred to the King's quarters right now." Arthur answered, nodding his thanks to the physician as he left the tin of medicine on his bedside table and got up to leave.

"Of course." Yao nodded to him. "I will be back afterwards to discuss a few things, aru." He then turned to Alfred. "Come along, I'll show you to your room." He motioned to the door.

Alfred looked at him for a moment, then at Arthur, and then at the door. Lost. He felt lost. He didn't know what to do or how to feel. He just wished someone would take him by the hand and tell him what to do. But there was nobody for him. He was alone amidst all the rich tapestries and elegant furniture.

He threw Arthur another look, and then spun around to leave without another word.

Arthur watched him go sadly and nodded to Yao as he, too, left. And then, he adjusted his pillow and sunk back into bed, trying to untangle his thoughts without another word.

Once in the hallway, Alfred let Yao take the lead and followed him silently, as he always did. He was too preoccupied with his thoughts to comment on anything, but he found himself muttering something he'd been trying to convince himself of for long.

"I... I don't like Arthur."

"I assure you, Alfred, that it's just a front." Yao answered without skipping a beat. "Arthur is the type of person who wants to look strong in front of others. And right now, he wants to be strong for you."

"For me?" Alfred repeated, incredulous. Why would Arthur ever feel the need to be strong for him, of all people?

"Yes, for you." Yao assured him, stopping in front of a mahogany door and unlocking it, leading Alfred inside. "He's just trying to help, despite having to deal with so much himself. You'll have to forgive him his stress, aru."

Alfred didn't answer, too busy trying to figure out how he felt about all this, while at the same time, trying to take in what he saw.

The room was beyond lavish, and obviously the late King's room. The window and balcony doors were open to air the room, but everything still seemed to give a queer vibe. Alfred didn't like it here. He wanted to go back. Anywhere. Anywhere but here. Back in his dungeon cell. Back on the streets. Back in a dark alley on a cold winter evening as he hugged his brother and prayed they survived the night. Back with Arthur. Anything. He didn't want to be King. He didn't want any of this.

"I'll leave your clothes here." Yao rummaged through a freshly stocked drawer, and Alfred idly wondered if the entire castle knew of his arrival and had gotten the time to prepare for him. The thought sickened him. "Please sleep tonight." He then added, noticing how Alfred seemed frozen.

"I'll try." The King replied shakily, looking around and taking in all the gold decorations, fancy furniture and the four-poster bed that was piled with exotic fur covers and pillows and delicate-looking curtains. Alfred briefly tried to do some math to try and figure out how much the room must have cost to furnish, but the numbers went higher than he could mentally calculate for.

"If you need anything, ring the bell by your bedside. A servant will come immediately." Yao informed him, but, noticing he still hadn't made any noticeable response, decided to leave him alone for now. "Still so young..." he sighed, catching Alfred's attention. "Both of you... Still so young and expected to bear upon your shoulders the burden of an entire nation." He shook his head grimly, then turned around to open the door. "Good night, Alfred."

And without waiting for a response, he left, leaving Alfred alone to work things out. He stood there a bit longer before deciding that yes, he did probably need a lot more sleep than he thought he did. Finally moving from where he was rooted to the ground, he picked up his pyjamas and quickly changed into them, carelessly tossing his clothes on the ground. He then gently folded and set his glasses on the night table.

Apprehension growing within him, he approached the large bed, and ran his fingers across the silk sheets, then up the pale blue, see-through curtains tied with a gold rope. He then gently lifted the covers, and, taking a deep breath, he slid under them.

He instantly felt misplaced. The bed was too big for just one person, and though the window was open, he felt too hot under the covers. Worst of all, he swore he could still feel the remnants of body heat from the old King on the mattress, as if he'd been brought in minutes after he'd died. There was a presence in the air, and Alfred hated it. He wanted to leave. He wanted to go home.

Alfred was scared of being so alone in such a new place. He curled up under the satin sheets, bringing his knees to his chest and ducking his head, as if protecting himself of whatever was perverting the atmosphere. He felt unwelcome and alienated. Misplaced. On his own.

He knew he wasn't going to get any sleep that night. He didn't even bother trying. Instead, he curled up tight and let a couple of silent tears mark his cheeks as they slid down his face.

_...OOOOOOOOOOOOO..._

Alfred awoke from a shallow sleep by the sound of footsteps. He immediately shot up and moved back as he noticed a maid in his room.

"Your Majesty." She curtsied as soon as she noticed he was awake. "Good morning. Shall I run you a bath?"

Alfred ignored the pinching in his heart at the mention of his new title, and shook his head.

"Uhm... That's okay. I'll do it myself." He mumbled awkwardly. And although he didn't have his glasses on, he still made out the shocked and slightly insulted look on the maid's face.

"Y-Your Majesty, w-was something not at your liking yesterday?" she stammered, wringing her hands nervously. Alfred briefly wondered how old this girl was. His age? Maybe a bit older? She was still young, though. And then he wondered how old Arthur was.

"On second thought, I took a bath yesterday evening, so I don't think one is necessary right now. I'll just... clean up." He fumbled with his words, desperate to keep his thoughts away from anything that had to do with Arthur.

"Yes Milord." The maid nodded. "I will have your clothes laid out for you when you come out. Also, the Queen requested your presence for breakfast in the dining hall." She informed him.

So much for not thinking about Arthur.

"Alright, thanks." Alfred nodded grumpily and pushed himself out of bed, grabbing his glasses and heading into the adjacent bathroom.

He didn't take long to get cleaned up, but was surprised when he came out, only to find his bed made and clothes laying perfectly upon it.

Silently getting changed, he threw a look at the mirror on top of the dresser before exiting his room.

Predictably, he did get lost. And, to his annoyance, every servant and maid he passed by in the hallway stopped and bowed as he passed by. Incredibly intimidated by this, Alfred didn't muster the courage to ask someone for directions until he ended up in what looked like an endless hallway lined with doors.

The servant he found after that gave him clear directions to the dining room, and when Alfred got there, feeling incredibly irritated, Arthur greeted him with a raised brow.

"It's about time." He muttered, watching as Alfred fell down into a chair next to him.

"Good morning to you, too." Alfred grumbled in response.

"Cheery this morning, aren't you?" Arthur rolled his eyes, pulling his chair closer to the table as a servant came in, placing in front of each of them a plate of steaming eggs, bacon, sausage, and fruits on the side.

"Whoa." Alfred simply commented, closing his eyes as he let the warm, comforting smell of food wrap around him.

"Enjoy your meal." Arthur wished him briefly before picking up his utensils and delicately cutting a piece of sausage.

Alfred's stomach rumbled loudly, and so, he only found it logical to forgo the fancy cutlery. Picking up his fork, he stabbed a slice of bacon and shoved it in his mouth, stars exploding under his eyelids, closed in delight, as the marvelous taste took over his entire mouth.

"We'll be starting as King and Queen today." Arthur started, trying to ignore the sounds of Alfred's noisy eating. "First, I'll show you around the key parts of the castle, and at the same time, perhaps try to get in some education, behaviour-wise. For lunch, we'll be meeting the council for the first time, to discuss some pressing issues. And then, in the afternoon... Well, rehearsal, I guess." He tripped over his last few words, refusing to let nervousness slide into his tone.

"Hmh, sure." Thankfully, Alfred was too busy stuffing his face to care. Half his plate was already gone, and Arthur watched in silent awe as he practically inhaled his food down.

"Alright then." The Queen sighed in desperation as he watched his atrocious eating habits. "I think we should start with your table manners."

_...OOOOOOOOOOOOOO..._

"If you go down the hall, you'll recognize that that's where our individual bedrooms are." Arthur pointed down the hall, stealing a glance at Alfred. He didn't look like he was giving a single damn about what Arthur was saying. "Are you even listening to me?"

"Yeah, sure." Alfred shrugged, turning his eyes to the door they had stopped in front of. "But... I still don't get why I have to share a room with you later on."

"After marriage, like I said." Arthur gritted his teeth, somewhat insulted. "After we're married, it's customary to share chambers, and a bed. It's done this way because sharing everything is supposed to enhance the magic bond in between the King and Queen, but none of the previous Kings and Queens have divulged what that magic was. We won't be allowed to, either. Every generation has to find their magic on their own, I guess."

"Magic? I thought only the Jokers could use magic." Alfred scratched his head, confused. "At least, that's what Mattie told me once..."

"The Jokers do cast magic indeed. But... Well, I don't know either. We'll find out what this magic is once we get married." Arthur looked away, hiding the blush on his face.

"Well I'm not looking forward to sharing anything with you." Alfred looked just as embarrassed. "I downright refuse to."

"W-Wanker." Arthur immediately whipped around, eyes wide, but turned away just as quickly so that Alfred couldn't see the drops of hurt glistening in his eyes. "W-Well I don't like you, either! And I bet I'll be extremely uncomfortable, sleeping with you." He grumbled.

"I'll say." Alfred merely replied, obviously miles away from hearing whatever had just cracked inside of Arthur.

_...OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO..._

"Hey Arthur?" Alfred spoke up as they silently walked around the training grounds, idly observing the few soldiers who were sparring or training.

"What is it?" Arthur raised a brow, still somewhat bitter.

"Why'd you lose that confrontation a few nights ago? I thought Queens were supposed to be great fighters." The King commented innocently. "I don't feel very safe, knowing that my life is in your hands."

"Y-You..." Arthur clenched his fists, trying not to explode. "How dare you? The nerve!" he huffed, taking deep breaths to try and calm himself down. "I haven't been Queen for too long. Less than a year. I couldn't have gotten too good in less than a year, at least, not as four armed and perfectly trained assassins." As much as he hated admitting it.

"You should learn to size up a challenge, first. You wouldn't have gotten hurt so bad if you'd realized you were no match for them." Alfred shrugged, vaguely noting that his tone held a certain concern within it. Too late to go back now, though. Alfred hoped Arthur hadn't caught it.

He did.

"S-Shut up." Arthur blushed, crossing his arms. "I didn't want to go down without a fight. I wanted to show them that Spades wasn't afraid of anything and would never give up." He mumbled.

"Why'd you do it?" Alfred sighed, suddenly unwilling to meet Arthur's eyes. "Why'd you... Try to protect him?"

Arthur's eyes snapped up quickly, filled with confusion, and then, morphed into anger.

"You selfish brat, he was my father!" he clenched his fists, gritting his teeth. "You're telling me I shouldn't have tried to protect my own flesh and blood?" he seethed.

"N-No, that's not what I meant, it's just that..." Alfred fumbled for his words, not knowing how to express his disgust at how the old King treated Arthur, and how he was absolutely not worth keeping on the Throne. Mainly the first.

"It doesn't matter." Arthur seemed to understand the unsaid comments anyways, tone hushing down as he turned his eyes to the ground. "The stress of ruling a kingdom on his own was too much. I was too young and inexperienced to be of help, so he had to run Spades on his own. It wasn't his fault."

"_It was mine."_

"He's dead now." Something locked up in his throat. "It's my fault. I couldn't be of help during his living, and I knew I wouldn't be useful after his death. I just wanted to show him I could do it."

"_I just wanted to show him I was worth something."_

"No matter." He ran a hand through his disheveled hair, and Alfred, who, up to this point, had kept quiet, suddenly felt something tug at his heartstrings. "As a son, I was bound to try and protect my father, and as a Queen..." his eyes flashed, but he refused to look up at Alfred. "It's my duty to die for my King."

Alfred's body was overcome with violent shivers.

"Well then..." he awkwardly cleared his throat after a while. "Guess we're both new to this whole King-Queen thing. We'll learn together, right?" he grinned at him, hoping his nervousness didn't show through.

"T-Together?" Arthur felt his face heat up, and he immediately tried to dispel the blush. "N-Not at all. I've been raised into royalty since I was little." He fidgeted. "I know how everything works, since I was born in the castle, after all." He tried sounding somewhat superior, if only to distance himself from Alfred.

Alfred merely raised a brow, annoyance bubbling up within him, and turned his head away. He shouldn't have dared hope that Arthur would be nice to him. Sometimes, he felt like he and Arthur would never get along. Good luck running a country when your partner hates your guts.

_...OOOOOOOOOOOOO..._

"Your Majesty." Arthur both sarcastically and formally muttered under his breath as he opened the door to the Council meeting room. Alfred glared at him, and strode inside, immediately freezing.

The room was alit with conversation, the dozen older men, all dressed in sumptuous blue and gold clothes, sitting around the table conversing loudly.

"Who are they?" Alfred nervously whispered to Arthur, noting that they'd all noticed him, but didn't seem to relent on their conversations.

"The High Council of Spades." Arthur replied, motioning him over to a couple of padded chairs at the end of the table. "Come. We should start soon so we can finish soon." He didn't sound too enthusiastic.

"Okay..." Alfred nervously nodded, looking entirely awkward as he slid into his chair, Arthur sliding in next to him. They both looked at the chattering men for a while, and then Arthur sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"They're not going to stop talking just because we're here." He grumbled under his breath. "Conceited bastards." Alfred jumped at the sound of the swear.

"W-What do we do, then?" he asked, fidgeting uncomfortably, aware of the clandestine stares thrown at him from everywhere.

"They'll only listen if you prove you're worth being listened to." Arthur explained, eyes hard. "Say it. That the meeting will now commence. Show them who's going to be leading this."

"M-Me?" Alfred wringed his hands nervously.

"No, your pet rock." Arthur rolled his eyes. "Of course, you. You're King now, after all."

Something lurched within Alfred's stomach.

"O-Okay..." he took a deep breath and turned his head upwards, sitting up straight and trying to look confident. "Please quiet down." He called, hoping his voice wasn't trembling. "The meeting will now commence."

And Arthur noted how this was the most King-like attitude he'd seen from Alfred since they started. He shivered, feeling goose bumps pricking his skin.

Slowly, all eyes turned to Alfred, and one by one, the council members, albeit grudgingly, quieted down.

Alfred brightened and turned to Arthur for silent approval. Arthur merely blushed and turned his head away. What was Alfred turning to him for, anyways? It wasn't like his approval mattered much to him, right?

"Alright, let's get lunch in here." Arthur motioned to the servants standing by the door to the kitchen. They both bowed and silently left to get their food. "Let us begin." He then started. "First of all, I think we are due for some introductions." He turned to Alfred, nodding at him to continue.

Alfred fidgeted, then straightened.

"Hello, everyone. I'm Alfred F Jones, and ehh... Well, apparently, I'm King of Spades now." He nervously clutched his pants, feeling awkward under the judging glares of the dozen old men.

"Charming." One of them rolled his eyes, and even Alfred realized it was a sneer. He deflated immediately. "It's our honour to guide you through your decisions, your Majesty." The way he said it, though, it felt more like they'd be making decisions, and Alfred, making them official.

"T-Thanks." He couldn't find anything else to say. Thankfully, his saving grace came in the form of a servant walking in with a cart lined with plates of food. His stomach growled at the smell of food, and Alfred was immediately glad for the diversion. Maybe, after a few bites, he would be able to compose himself.

They started eating in silence, silverware clinking gently as various forks and knifes were picked up. Predictably, Alfred got immensely confused when he found himself with three forks, three knives, and two spoons. All of them honestly looked the same to him, and he didn't find it logical when, through the corner of his eye, he noticed everybody eating their salad with the same fork, and buttering their bread with the same knife.

He just wasn't cut out for fancy, he decided as he picked up a fork at random and stabbed at a slice of tomato. At first, he ate without paying attention, too hungry to care about what was going on around him. And then, as his stomach filled up more and more, he became aware of the murmurs going around the table. Glances were thrown his way, lingering on the way he forwent the use of a knife to cut big pieces of lettuce, ate his rice with a spoon, and cut his meat into big pieces scattered all around his plate.

Something akin to frustration and embarrassment welled up within Alfred, and he dropped his utensils, leaning back and slouching in his chair, appetite all but gone. The glares made him feel extremely self-conscious, and he shuddered at the thought of what those men were thinking of him at that current moment.

Arthur noticed his plight when he realized Alfred had only eaten half of the contents of his plate before leaning back. He finished swallowing his bite and gently set down his utensils as well, noting how furtive, accusatory glances at them made Alfred look entirely uncomfortable. Arthur could practically see the self-deprecation in Alfred's eyes.

"Hey..." he called, trying not to blush as he leaned closer to Alfred. "You haven't finished your plate yet. Come on." He awkwardly patted his shoulder.

"'M not hungry anymore." Alfred muttered, refusing to meet his eyes. Was Arthur ashamed of him, too? For some reason, that hurt the most.

"You, not hungry?" Arthur couldn't help but scoff. "Come on. Pick up the smaller fork and the sharp knife, and cut your lettuce. It's way too big to fit in your mouth." He encouraged, picking up his own utensils.

Alfred looked at him, eyes swimming with self-doubt and guilt, and sighed, picking up the fork and knife Arthur had pointed out.

"Hold them like this." Arthur shifted his fingers over the cutlery, a move Alfred mimicked instantly. "Good. This fork is the salad fork, and this knife is the cutting knife." He put his utensils down before picking up another fork. "This fork is for you main dish. You only eat soup with a spoon, using this one." He put up a large, flat spoon.

Alfred nodded, and exchanged his salad fork for his larger fork, holding it the way Arthur showed him to cut a piece of meat and put it in his mouth slowly, chewing hesitantly, as if afraid he'd done something wrong again. Once more, he looked at Arthur for approval, and this time, Arthur didn't deny him what he wanted.

Alfred beamed at Arthur's nod and straightened his back, thinking he'd gotten the hang of things when whispers reached his ears.

"-disgraceful-"

"-unrefined-"

"-unmannered-"

Every ounce of confidence he'd gathered thanks to Arthur seemed to evaporate as the whispers got louder. Alfred's shoulders sagged, a sign of defeat. By no means, though, did Arthur give up.

"Don't listen to those stuffy old twats." He whispered, gritting his teeth. He wasn't deaf- he knew what their council members thought of their new King. "Just keep going, Alfred. You'll learn. We'll both learn."

"I don't want them to hate me..." Alfred whispered just as quietly, eyes downcast. "I don't know what to do..."

"Come on, love." Arthur encouraged, blushing when he realized what he'd said out of instinct. "C-Chin up." He encouraged, scooting away from Alfred and trying to keep his eyes off of his surprised face. "Your food's getting cold." He muttered, and Alfred grinned because this entire thing just sounded silly.

"Oh, for hell's sake, the entire country is going to go up in ruins like this!"

Everybody suddenly went silent, the clinking of silverware immediately stopping as all eyes, from shocked to curious to supportive, turned to a silver-bearded man sitting on Arthur's right, a bit further away.

"I'm sorry, would you care to repeat that, Councillor?" Arthur gritted out, venom lacing his every word.

"My opinion on this, _Your Majesties,_ is that the country is going to go up in ruins." He pointed at Alfred accusingly. "Especially if he's our new King!"

"There is nothing wrong with our new King!" Arthur immediately jumped to Alfred's defence, not noticing how the younger boy looked like he was about to cry.

"He's right, the boy is hardly qualified." Another one piped in, bolstered by his fellow councillor's words. "His writing is mediocre, let's not get started on calligraphy, he can barely read, and only has the briefest notions of mathematics!"

"He'll learn, just like all of you learned!" To be stuck-up assholes, he added in his mind.

"Sire, with all due respect, Alfred has too much to learn to be able to comprehend how this country works! He's a commoner, a peasant, he does not know how the upper class works, he does not know how decision-making works!" the first councillor pointed out loudly, not sounding like he gave a damn about due respect.

"Councillor, I advise you to hold your tongue before I have it cut off for disrespect!" Arthur was now shaking, disbelief coursing through his veins. How could they be so cruel? How could they put Alfred down like that, when the boy was obvious doing all he could to please? Now, he realized why the kingdom, under his father's rule, had become corrupt. It was because of these arrogant bastards making decisions.

"Queen of Spades, listen to yourself!" Arthur shivered at being addressed so directly. "You were born into royalty, you will learn what your position implies." His words implied that Arthur was not being a satisfying Queen, either. "But him!" all eyes turned to Alfred, and Arthur noticed with growing horror that he'd gone extremely white, eyes wide and brimming with self-disgust and hate and guilt and shame. "He will never learn. How can he be King when he doesn't even know simple things, like what the Administration Deck members do?"

Arthur was just about to explode, livid with rage, when suddenly, a hand was gently put on his.

"Actually..." All eyes turned to Alfred again. "I... I know there's the Jack... He takes care of international relations and the castle staff, and is a professional and personal counselor to the Royal Pair." He gulped down, eyes downcast because he could take the sight of so many eyes, previously narrowed, growing wider and wider in surprise with his every word.

Even Arthur had stopped, looking at him with something akin to shock and _pride _swimming in his eyes.

"T-Then there's the Ace... He leads and trains the recruits in the army... Supervises military operations, and uhh... He's the main tactician during wartime."

Think, Alfred, think, he told himself. What had Arthur spoken about in his cell a few days ago? He knew this! He could prove to everyone that he did! And then, they'd have to stop making fun of Arthur and him!

"A-And... There's the Ten... District supervisor, and he makes sure security is good for the inhabitants and collects taxes for the treasurer..." he held his tongue on that last one, not knowing whether or not the council members knew who the secret Treasurer of Spades was. "And last, but not least, there's Arthur and me..." he gulped down, throwing Arthur a nervous look and shaky smile. "K-King and Queen of Spades..." Just saying it made his heart flip in his chest. What was he getting so flustered about? "T-The King makes decisions and applies them... He also learns to fight and goes to war... He listens to citizens and tries to find answers to their plight... And, well, the Queen... The Queen applies the King's decisions, and goes to war with the King, a-and..." he threw another nervous look at Arthur, who was obviously speechless. "A-And the Queen's duty is to die for the King."

Nobody spoke. Nobody moved. Nobody even dared breathe for a moment. Everybody just looked at Alfred, speechless. Entirely flabbergasted and with nothing left to say, shock coursing through their systems. Alfred fidgeted beneath their surprised looks, feeling self-conscious and hoping he hadn't made a fool of himself by saying something wrong. A bigger fool than he must've made himself to be before.

"We'll learn." Arthur suddenly broke the silence, obviously the first to have recovered from Alfred's shocking display of knowledge. Pride shone in his eyes, defiance overpowering it all as he glared at all the councillors. He was still aware that Alfred's hand was on his and in another act of defiance, he took Alfred's hand in his and squeezed it tight. "We'll both learn together."

And they threw a look at one another, something inside both of them falling into place. Something inside of them had been completed. They didn't know what. But during the few seconds where they shared that look, the complicity ran clear as day between them, and they allowed one another to see a shared smile.

Once they parted to casually return to their meals, the silence hovered above them, tense and crushing. But, knowing they were together on this one, the two royals ate without worry. Soon enough, the council members joined in their actions, awkwardly picking up their utensils again to return to their cold meals. Nobody felt like eating anymore. But they did, just to have something to occupy their minds with.

The silence was only broken after the dinner plates were taken away, when one councillor cleared his throat awkwardly to speak up.

"Y-Your Majesty..." he seemed to use the title with a bit of respect and a lot more fear now. "W-We should discuss what is to become o-of your wedding now..."

Arthur immediately bristled, straightening, hands clutched in his lap.

"There is nothing to discuss." He hissed. "Father is dead, and so, there will be no marriage. Cancel it."

"Your Highness, you must think this through, first." Another one decided to pipe in. "Royals must be married to be able to rule together. You have postponed your marriage with your father for far too long, anyway, ruling over six months without being married to your King."

"I don't want to get married." Arthur huffed, and Alfred found, with quite a shock, that there was something akin to childish sulking in that tone.

"Your Majesty, think of the kingdom. Think of Spades! Royals live to serve their country, Sire, you must get married and have the Ace coronate you as soon as possible! You aren't legally entitled to being Queen if these two aren't done soon." Another agreed.

"Sire, we're on high tension with Clubs right now, so we don't have money to spare for anything. We've already spent so much of our funds on your and our late King's wedding, we cannot waste all that money!" another argued.

"Sell the wedding props, I don't know!" Arthur argued back, agitation evident in his eyes.

"Sire, we must listen to the voice of reason. We cannot waste the money we've already spent on a wedding that will happen tomorrow, of all times! The screens have already been set up in a lot of districts, everybody's waiting for your wedding impatiently. We cannot disrupt all the hard work put into this." Another ran a hand over his moustache pensively, and Arthur had to admit that they were making sense.

"I'm not going to get married." He still kept arguing, though, because he didn't want to be forced into a union he didn't believe in. "Father's dead. I won't get married."

"But you have our new King, don't you?"

And everything dropped into silence once again.

Slowly, Alfred and Arthur turned to each other, sharing a glance, and immediately turned their heads away from one another, blushing brightly.

"It was bound to happen someday, Majesties." The same council member continued, noticing that he had their attention. "Instead of wasting preparations we will have to make again at a further time, why not save time and money by marrying you two?"

"I-I refuse!" Arthur stammered, blushing. "I refuse to get married to someone I barely know!"

"Arthur..."

"I don't want to be married! Not now!"

"Arthur."

"You can't force me! I won't get married to Alfred!"

"Arthur!"

Panting, Arthur was barely even aware that he'd stood up. His eyes turned to Alfred, and his heart wrenched when he realized how dejected he looked. Calming himself, he sat back down and refused to look at Alfred.

"Okay." Alfred shakily nodded, looking entirely uncomfortable. "Are there any other issues to be discussed?" He asked, and nobody answered. Alfred kept his eyes trained on the table in front of him, too nervous to look anywhere else. His eyes only snapped up when the servants came back in, carrying slices of cake that they put in front of everyone silently.

They all picked up their forks in silence, and Alfred threw a furtive glance to the side to see how Arthur was holding his fork. He noticed he hadn't touched his cake, opting for staring at it wistfully, eyes glazed over.

"Sire, there is also the coronation..." one of the council members had the courage to break the silence again. "The ceremony where you and the King are crowned and receive your legal titles." He deemed it necessary to explain, probably because of Alfred. The latter took slight offense in it, as everybody could guess what a coronation was, royal or not.

"I think we should do it right after the wedding. Two birds with one stone." Another nodded. "All in favour?"

The council members slowly raised their hands until all twelve of them had their hands up, looking at the royals expectantly. Arthur didn't seem to want to pay attention to them, his eyes having a surprising docility imprinted in them. Like resignation. Giving up. A white flag.

Alfred hated that look on him.

"Alright." The King shakily nodded. "The coronation will take place after the wedding. Tomorrow." He was aware of how his hands were trembling in apprehension and anticipation. "Is there anything else to discuss?"

The council members looked at each other, silently debating, and then, one of them shook his head.

"No, your Majesties. That is all."

"Okay." Alfred gulped down and tried to sit up straight, give himself a slightly more regal appearance. "Council is adjourned."

As soon as the words passed his lips, Arthur rose from his seat and silently made his way to the door. They all watched him go, wincing at the slam of the door, and then turned back to each other.

Feeling strangely naked and defenceless without Arthur by his side, Alfred also got up, nodded to his council, and followed out in Arthur's footsteps.

That afternoon, up until the night, the two were called to rehearse their newly-announced wedding. While Alfred shook with apprehension with every step he took, Arthur merely walked like the condemned being led to the gallows. Alfred noticed how he did not speak at all except when he had to practice his vows. The number of times they did it, it felt to Alfred like they'd gotten married a dozen times already.

Either way, to say that Alfred was nervous was an understatement. Even on their way back to their rooms, after dark, he was shaking, obviously dreading what was to come.

"Don't worry so much." Arthur grunted for the first time when he realized that Alfred's nervousness wasn't dying down. "You'll do fine."

"I'm going to mess up." Alfred shook his head, eyes wide. "What if I trip? Or I faint because it's too stuffy? Or I forget my words?" he clutched at his hair, stressed out and panicked to the maximum. "The whole world's gonna be watching, Arthur!" he quieted down, his voice fading to something akin to regret. "I don't want to make a fool of myself anymore..."

"You're not going to, Alfred."

"With so many people watching, I'm sure something's going to go wrong." He rubbed his forehead tiredly. "You saw how I was today at Council. Twelve people were glaring and judging me, and I could hardly speak. What am I gonna do when there are hundreds of thousands of them watching me and judging me?"

"They won't judge you, Alfred." Arthur tried grumpily, although they both know that was a lie. If anything, Spades' couple of thousands of nobles would judge him, him, a mere peasant becoming King. Perhaps nobody else would judge him, but a couple of thousands were more than Alfred could handle.

"I wish they wouldn't." He whispered, and Arthur's heart went out to him. "I'm trying..."

"I know you are. You'll show them, Alfred. If nobody else, then I, as your Queen, believe in you." And despite being a horrible person to turn to comfort to, Arthur knew he'd made Alfred just a bit better when he got a sad, tired smile in return.

"Thanks, Arthur..." he dropped his smile. "I wish everybody who is going to look at us tomorrow would think the same way."

"Alfred, just pretend it's just us." Arthur told him, somewhat exasperated, but understanding his nervousness. He wasn't showing it, but Arthur was nervous out of his mind as well. "Pretend it's just you, me, and the priest at the altar. We're getting married, that's all that counts. The rest is a show for the entire world to see." He trailed off, before realizing with how much _care _he'd pronounced those sentences.

Blushing, he took quicker steps until he got to the Queen's quarters, and immediately opened the door.

"Well now, let's go to bed. Don't worry about things like that, you'll do fine." He tried smiling at him, and told himself he was comforting Alfred so that he wouldn't ruin his image at the wedding. Nothing else. It wasn't like he liked Alfred and wanted him to be free of worry and to have a smooth night's of rest. "We'll do fine."

"Thanks, Arthur..." Alfred fidgeted before looking up and shooting him a small, timid smile as well. Arthur was surprised, seeing this quieter side of his King. Alfred's grin hid many things, it seemed. Arthur wished he could uncover all of Alfred's secrets.

"Not at all. It wouldn't do to have bags under your eyes on your wedding. Now go." He motioned with his head towards the King's quarters, a bit further down the hall.

"Alright." Alfred nodded to him, taking a few steps in his quarters' direction. "Good night, Arthur."

"Sweet dreams, Alfred." Arthur acknowledged with a nod. "Rest well, for tomorrow, you will wake as a King."

* * *

**Author's Notes**

**This chapter was a little bit... everywhere? Anyways. It was a bit segmented, but I think it was good. **

**So... I got a bunch of questions about the fact that the old King randomly died and Alfred's now King. If you remember, in the very first part of the first chapter, it was mentioned that "it has struck again". It, standing for the Clockworks of Spades. And Arthur explained it to Matthew, too. And now, it's fully explained. If you still don't get it, ask me, I'll explain further. It's a simple concept, though. The Clockworks don't ring, ever, except that when they do, the face of the new King is shown, and it is destined for the new King to ascend to the Throne seven days after his/her face is shown. Capish?**

**And, if you didn't catch that, Alfred was repeating what Arthur had told him the other day in the cell. Smart move X)**

**And yes, I know that more questions have risen than answers, but please bear with me. You will see when it happens, because everything is going to happen at some point. Have patience xD And like I said to many people already, this story is divided in two halves. First half will be concentrated around Arthur and Alfred, the development of their relationship, and their adaptation as King and Queen of Spades. The second part of the fic is going to be the war, in which the rest of the cast will play major roles as well. But for now, and for quite a few chapters from now, the entire story will be centered around Alfred, Arthur, and their relationship. **

**In any case, all questions are welcome. All comments and critics are welcome, too! Give me anything you want, because I adore hearing what you guys have to say :D You are all amazing! ^^ Please review~**


	5. Deep Sky

**Author's Notes**

**And finally, the marriage chapter. Marriage and coronation, whatever. I personally think this chapter is well-written, even if it is leaning a bit more towards Alfred's perspective. I'd like your criticism, though, because somehow, it feels…. Lacking. So…. Give me anything you can ^^**

**Also, let me give the usual thanks to all my beautiful reviewers, who support me and spoil me with their lovely comments and suggestions (on that note, all suggestions are welcome ! If I can fit it in, I will :D). Enormous thanks to Canada Cowboy, ZhangArronXun, Rainstorm-Mosspath, BadApple123, phuongly, xXxPrettyinPinkxXx, Ember Hinote, mlpnkobnhjui and my 4 anonymous reviewers :D**

**And obviously, the council isn't liked very much. That's to be expected, though. You've got to understand, though, that in their heads, they're being put under the total control of someone that is not of noble stature, a mere peasant. Their pride is taking a huge blow from this, because, King or not, Alfred is still not of royal blood.**

**And yes, they're getting married now. Obviously, they don't love each other. Obviously, they're not doing it out of their own free will. But they're still doing it. Like every other royal marriage, it's arranged, and it's purely for show (….or is it ? ;D).**

**And for their outfits : I got inspired by two pieces of fanart, so here's a link to both of them if you have trouble imagining them. Just go to deviantart and paste the link extensions given below after the "com".The artists are wonderful and take all the credit ^^**

**Wedding clothes : /art/USUK-Royalty-in-Spades-262746940**  
**Coronation clothes : /art/vows-256086887**

**Warnings : None for this chapter. USUK love-hate tension ? xD**

* * *

"Yao, where's Arthur?" Alfred asked as he shimmied into the long, navy blue tunic his Jack had handed him.

"Traditionally, the King does not see the Queen until the wedding, and vice-versa, aru." Yao answer, helping him button the large silver straps on his chest before helping him wear his cravat.

Alfred didn't reply, his stomach twisting into knots. He could barely believe it. This was it. He was getting married within the next hour. With a quasi-stranger he didn't love, too. Alfred immediately felt slimy at that thought, though, because he'd made it one of his principles in life not to lie.

"Sit down, aru." Yao told him, pushing him in front of a mirror. Alfred sat down, nervously tapping his feet on the ground to evacuate some energy. He felt somewhat sick. Perhaps he shouldn't have eaten breakfast. He would hate to throw up all over Arthur in front of the entire kingdom. "It'll be fine." The Jack reassured him, noticing the King's anxiousness.

"I'm scared, Yao." Alfred found himself uttering as he looked at himself in the mirror. Despite being in gorgeous navy blue and black and white, he felt misplaced, as if he was standing in someone else's shoes.

"You have no reason to be. You've practiced a lot. Pretend it's just you and Arthur at the altar, don't think about everything else, aru." Yao calmly told him, struggling to keep his cowlick down as he combed his hair.

"Arthur said the same thing..." Alfred whispered, tearing his eyes away from the person in the mirror. It didn't feel like it was him.

"Come on, now, let's not be late to your own wedding." Yao nodded, nudging him up when he was done.

"Oh my god." Alfred choked, putting a hand over his mouth in disbelief. "I'm getting married. Yao, I-I'm getting married to someone I don't even know." He shut his eyes tightly, trying to take deep breaths. They came out shaky.

"Don't cry, Alfred. Your eyes will be red, aru." Yao quietly walked over with a long, beautiful navy blue cape, lined with white fur, and dutifully pinned it on Alfred's shoulders, letting the bottom part drag on the floor. "You will get to know him. I promise you he is a nice person deep inside, aru. I've known him since he was a babe." The Jack nodded in satisfaction.

"Okay." Alfred nodded, trying to breathe through the ball in his throat. "Okay, I'm alright." He gulped down, feeling his tongue go dry. "D-Do we go now?" he asked, opening his eyes and fiddling with his silver belt buckle instead.

"Wait." Yao stopped him, delicately picking up a simple, silver crown off the table and placing it gently upon Alfred's hair. "Now, you're ready, aru."

"Thank you, Yao." Alfred whispered without conviction.

"Alright, let's go. Let's not be late, aru." Yao opened the door for him and ushered him out. "Posture straight, remember." He reminded him as they quickly stalked down the short distance to the door to the gardens, and exited.

Alfred momentarily enjoyed the sunlight hitting his face, breathing in what felt like his last breath of freedom, trying to distract and calm himself by looking at all the gorgeous flowers and butterflies all around him.

His shoulders had become less tense when they arrived at the Temple of Spades. He took a deep breath, held his chin up, and walked straight, keeping his eyes on the door instead of on all the nobles and journalists crowding as close as they could get without the guards pushing them back.

Noise. So much noise. Alfred's heart was beating fast, and he felt sweat accumulate on his brow. He knew he couldn't wipe it off, though, so he just bore with it.

Yao led him to the doors, and indicated that from then on, he would go alone. Alfred looked at him a moment longer, and then nodded. Yao flashed him a comforting smile, and Alfred tried to mimic it with deploring results.

Turning around, Alfred took a deep breath and pushed the doors open.

Everybody seated inside the Temple immediately rose to their feet. The choir and organ immediately started, people whispering as they watched him graceful walk by. He's rehearsed this. He'd learned to listen to the clicking of his knee-high navy blue boots instead of anything else.

He'd learned to pay attention to the man waiting for him at the altar, and him only. He'd learned to keep his eyes on the man who was dressed in the exact same clothes as him, except for the buttons that were smaller, considering his smaller build. He'd learned that the other gazes didn't matter, just Arthur's.

And then, Arthur smiled encouragingly at him.

Alfred's steps became much more confident from then on.

Once he reached the altar and stood closely next to Arthur, back turned to the crowd, he sighed.

"I still can't believe we're doing this." He whispered as the choir finished their song.

"It's merely a formality, Alfred, please put up with it." Arthur whispered back.

A silence fell between them as the choir died down and the priest started to speak. The people in the Temple sat back down, still whispering between them. The couple didn't pay them any mind.

"You..." Arthur whispered again after a bit. "You clean up well." He blushed.

Alfred raised his eyebrows in surprise and turned slightly to him, noting the blush.

"Yeah, well, you should've done the same. Shaving your pet caterpillars would've helped." He snickered, enjoying how the blush became even harder. Arthur turned to his and glared murderously.

"Y-You're a stupid idiot, m-my eyebrows are perfectly fine!" he insisted in a gritted whisper, flustered.

"And now, with these vows, these two souls, under the eyes of both mortal and god, shall be united." The priest suddenly cut in, forcing the two to break their gazes away and stare at him instead. The knot in Alfred's throat had returned as he realized that this was it. No turning back.

There was a big silence, before Arthur cleared his throat.

"I, Arthur Kirkland, Queen of the kingdom of Spades, swear upon my honour and dignity that I will protect, cherish, and l-l-love my husband, Alfred F Jones, King of the kingdom of Spades, in sickness and in health, through the dark and bright times, and for rich and for poor. I swear under the witnessing eye of both men and god that I, as your lawfully wedded husband, will respect you in your successes and failures and will stand forever faithful by your side from this moment on until death do us part." He finished, hoping nobody had heard his wavering tone. Perhaps it didn't show, but he was incredibly nervous as well. Unlike Alfred, though, he hid it quite well.

It was now Alfred's turn. He gulped down nervously, a blank going through his head for a second, and he panicked. He opened his mouth to speak, but no sounds came out. The silence around them awaited his words. Alfred felt shame wash over him as he realized he was unable to speak past the ball in his throat. Tears were threatening to spill over.

And then, he felt something warm against his hand, and briefly glanced down. Arthur had discreetly slid his hand and had taken his, the leather of his black gloves smooth and comforting against his naked skin. Under the gloves were the bandages that hid the ugly injury he'd received for trying to protect his King. This was his Queen, sworn to protect him, listen to him, and die for him. There was some comfort in the thought of having someone to lean on. When he looked up, Arthur was looking fondly at him, encouraging. Air flowed back into Alfred's lungs, and his voice suddenly came to life again.

"I, Alfred F Jones, King of the kingdom of Spades, s-swear upon my honour and dignity that I will protect, cherish, and l-love my husband, Arthur Kirkland, Queen of the kingdom of Spades, in sickness and in health, through the dark and b-bright times, and for rich and for poor. I s-swear under the witnessing eye of both men and god that I, as your lawfully wedded h-husband, will respect you in your successes and failures and will stand forever faithful by your side from this moment on... until death do us p-part."

And it didn't matter that he'd stuttered at various places in the entire thing, because he'd done it. He'd done it, and it was now over. Arthur nodded at him very slightly, and Alfred felt something explode in his heart.

"You may now exchange the rings." The priest declared as two children came up to them, each holding a navy blue cushion, lined with gold, simple, silver wedding bands glinting on them. The two royals bent down and took their rings, silently thanking the children, and then turned around to face each other.

Blue met green, and for a moment, two hearts leapt in the air.

"Here goes." Alfred whispered nervously, taking Arthur's gloved hand into his and gently slid the ring on his finger. The glove, meant to cover the bandages from Arthur's wound, made the entire thing a bit too difficult, and Alfred found himself listening to his heartbeat in his ears.

When he finally finished, Arthur took his hand, and easily slid on the matching silver band.

They looked at each other for a moment, both of their eyes wide, as if disbelieving, and entwined their hands like they were supposed to do during rehearsal. They waited for the priest to declare them married so they could leave, but it sounded like someone had forgotten to mention a step to the ceremony during the rehearsal.

"By the powers bestowed upon me by the Kingdom and by the gods as High Priest of Spades, I now pronounce you lawfully wedded husband," the priest extended a book with a Spade on it towards Arthur. "and husband." He did the same to Alfred, before drawing back, closing his book, and holding it up high. "You may now kiss the groom."

"Wait, what?" the two of them exclaimed in whispers at the same time, shocked. Nobody had ever told them they'd have to kiss!

"I'm not kissing you!" Alfred protested.

"W-What? D-Don't say it like that!" Arthur gritted his teeth, blushing and fidgeting, lowering his eyes so the hurt wouldn't show. "Come on, it's just a brief thing. For upholding tradition. And it's protocol, anyways. A-And apparently, it strengthens the magic bond between a King and a Queen." He whispered furiously, tripping over his own words.

Alfred looked at him, raising an eyebrow, and then sighed, blushing as well.

"Fine." He muttered in a sulky tone. "But it's not going to be long."

"I wasn't expecting it to." Arthur insisted, and at the same time, they turned their eyes up towards each other. As if on common accord, they leaned in, eyes sliding shut, and at the very last moment, Arthur found it pertinent to add "T-This doesn't mean I like you".

Their lips met, and much louder than the explosion of cheers and applause in the crowd, there was an explosion of utter bliss under the form of fireworks in their hearts. It felt like a piece of a complex puzzle had fallen into place. It felt ecstatic. Unconsciously, they tightened their grip on one another's hands and Alfred angled his head lightly to be able to taste more of Arthur's sweet skin. Both of them were far from knowing what the entire 'magic bond' deal was about, but they knew, when their hearts swelled, that they'd found it. This was it.

They only pulled away once the physical need for breath arose. Lightly panting, they drew away slowly, eyes sliding open gently before snapping wide once they realized what they'd done. Both of them refused to acknowledge it, and a silent agreement not to talk about it was concluded between them.

Quickly, they parted hands and each exited the Temple on their own sides, Arthur leaving to the right, and Alfred, to the left.

Alfred's steps were fast, faster when he got out of the crowd's view. He was vaguely aware that he was trembling when he entered the dressing room, where Yao was waiting for him.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" the older man beckoned him over. "You're almost done, aru. Let's get you changed for the coronation ceremony."

"Y-Yeah." Alfred stuttered as he plopped down shakily on the chair Yao offered him.

"Quickly now." The Jack briskly walked over with what looked like unnecessarily extravagant clothes. "Strip, we don't have much time, aru." He hastened.

Alfred mechanically dropped all of his clothes on the ground, and when he was standing in his undershirt and boxers, Yao gave him his new set of clothes.

The pants were beige and the long-sleeves tunic was navy blue, gold lining it and a red band crossing over his chest. The buttons were gold with intricate designs, and rose all the way up to his throat. Yao gently draped a heavy fur cape over his shoulders and buttoned it in the front. A golden chain with spades hanging from it was draped on his shoulders, and the navy blue cape was decorated with golden lines.

He wore the same boots as before and hastily made his way out, towards the inner room of the Temple of Spades. By the sight of the majestic double doors, he could tell that simply standing there was an honour. Everybody in the Kingdom knew that only the members of the Administration Deck were allowed to enter the inner sanctuary of the Temple of Spades. Curiously enough, the doors wouldn't open for anybody else.

Yao put his hand against one of the doors, and with a rumble, they both swung inwards. They both stepped in, the cool air assailing their faces, heels clicking on the cold tile floors. There was absolutely silence in the room, only the sounds of walking perverting the perfect lack of noise.

From the corner of his eye, Alfred spotted Arthur walking in as well, accompanied by the Ace. He kept his eyes trained on the altar coming up, though, knowing that every movement had to be perfect. This wasn't for mortals anymore. This was for the divine's eyes only.

Both he and Arthur stopped in front of the raised platform that had both of their crowns laying atop it, as well as a golden scepter and a gilded dagger. Simultaneously, they knelt on the navy blue cushion on the ground and bowed their head until their foreheads touched the cold white stone of the platform. The Ace and the Jack both stepped to the other side of the platform, expressions of concentration on both their faces.

"As another life returns to its creator, destiny is created." Yao finally started. "Watch over us, our divine protectors, as today, another destiny is formed. The Kingdom of Spades shall, after today, have two young souls on its Throne, and we implore from you your guidance and protection as we give them what's rightfully theirs, aru."

"Let them take place on the Throne of Spades and rule like none other, for the better of our nation and its citizens." The Ace of Spades, whom Alfred remembered vaguely as Mathias from that time when they visited the training grounds, immediately picked up, all traces of previous playfulness gone from his tone. "Lend us your aid and support as today, we hand over to the Kingdom two new guides to glory. Hear our words, our divine creators, and give your blessings to the next King and Queen of Spades."

"Alfred F Jones, you who will hold the Kingdom in your hands and who will become the only soul to sit on the Throne of Spades until our masters call us into their protective hold once more, swear upon your life, announce your vows loud so that your voice may reach the heavens and the earth, aru." Yao finished, looking down at Alfred expectantly.

Alfred took a deep breath, reminding himself that unlike the wedding vows, these words couldn't be mistaken or stuttered. The gods were judging him. He had to live up to their expectations. He lifted his head and glared with determination straight into Yao's black eyes.

"I, Alfred F Jones, future King of Spades, swear upon my life and honour to lead the Kingdom of Spades to glory in battle, help its fields flourish, keep its citizens happy and create a fair world where justice rules supreme." He momentarily searched for the words he'd been made to learn by heart yesterday. "I, Alfred F Jones, future King of Spades, swear today under the witnessing eye of the divine that I will uphold the name of the Kingdom and lead it to greatness. I swear to protect the lands and its citizens and rule with absolute fairness in regards to all." Almost finished.

There was an emotion akin to pride flickering in Yao's eyes as he soundless picked up the golden sceptre, reverently holding it out for Alfred to take. He did take it with his left hand, his grip strong on the cold metal, and his eyes never leaving Yao's.

"With my left hand, bearing the Scepter of Spades, I swear to uphold justice, condemn the guilty and free the innocent. I swear to regard all with equality and listen to the voice of Spades and its citizens regardless of their past, present or future. I swear to be impartial and unbiased in my judgements and I swear to use the power bestowed upon me to inspire power to the Nation." He put the Scepter against his heart in a single, fluid movement.

He was almost finished. One last vow. Just one last. Could deities read minds? He hoped not. Alfred was panicking, afraid he would stumble over his words. Arthur couldn't even support him now as his head was still bowed against the platform. Alfred was on his own for this one. A test.

"With my right hand, representing the power I am allotted as King of Spades, I will touch the Nation and pull out its true potential. I swear to cover the heads of my citizens faced with attack and then pick up the tools to help them cultivate their fields. I swear to stop all injustice and halt the progress of evil when it enters the boundaries of the land on which I am bound to rule." And he put his right hand out onto the platform, over an engraved Spades symbol in the rock.

That was it. He was done. Now it was up to the gods to judge him. Alfred definitely hoped it was a positive verdict. His heart was hammering against his chest, begging to be let out. As much as he wanted to curl up, he knew he had to keep his eyes on Yao's and never budge.

There was a small breath of silence, and then, Mathias started.

"Arthur Kirkland, you who will hold the Kingdom in your hands and who will become the only soul to sit on the Throne of Spades until our masters call us into their protective hold once more, swear upon your life, announce your vows loud so that your voice may reach the heavens and the earth." He indicated Arthur's cue with the last syllable, and Arthur immediately raised his head.

Alfred couldn't look at him, but he was sure that even Arthur was nervous about it all. And indeed, he was, his heart beating fast as he took a breath, raised his head and started reciting what he'd been trained for his entire life.

"I, Arthur Kirkland, future Queen of Spades, swear upon my life and honour to lead the Kingdom of Spades to glory in battle, help its fields flourish, keep its citizens happy and create a fair world where justice rules supreme." He knew it all, he knew all the words, remembering all the times he'd been made to recite them as a child, as a teen, as an adult. This was it. This was the purpose of his life. "I, Arthur Kirkland, future Queen of Spades, swear today under the witnessing eye of the divine that I will uphold the name of the Kingdom and lead it to greatness. I swear to protect the lands and its citizens and rule with absolute fairness in regards to all."

That wasn't so bad, judging from the approval in Mathias' eyes. The latter delicately picked up the gilded dagger and handed it to Arthur, who took it with his right hand without breaking eye contact with the Ace.

"With my right hand, bearing the Blade of Spades, I swear to cut down all enemies of the Nation and take a stand in front of the armies that set out to rob the land of its identity. I swear to put my life on the line when defending my country and my King and die with no regrets in the name of Spades. I swear to be impartial and indiscriminate in my judgement, and swear to fight to the death when the Kingdom and its citizens are threatened by evil." He then brought the dagger to his heart proudly, making sure the tip pointed down.

He took a moment to catch his breath, and then lifted his left hand.

"With my left hand, representing the power I am allotted as Queen of Spades, I will touch the Nation and pull out its true potential. I swear to cover the heads of my citizens faced with attack and then pick up the tools to help them cultivate their fields. I swear to stop all injustice and halt the progress of evil when it enters the boundaries of the land on which I am bound to rule." He repeated the same words as Alfred, and then made the same motion, bringing his hand to rest atop Alfred's, on the engraved Spades. He then brought his forehead down to touch the cool rock, feeling his heart beat fast under the many folds of clothing.

"Two souls united as one now hold the Nation in a single, joint hand, aru." Yao immediately followed, gently taking the golden, jeweled crown in front of him and raising it high in the air.

"Under your protective gaze, today, we watch as the future generation lays claim to the treasures of Spades." Mathias repeated the motion with Arthur's crown, and they both stopped for a moment. All went still. Everybody's heart was thundering. This was it. The moment where everything was sealed. The point of no return. It was right here.

Alfred shut his eyes tightly in apprehension, and Arthur took a silent, shuddering breath through his nose to calm himself down.

"Alfred F Jones, by the power granted to me as Jack of Spades by both the Kingdom and the Gods, I declare you the new King of Spades. Accept your position and fulfill your duties with honour. Watch over the land and its people and abide by your oath, aru." Yao declared before very delicately perching the crown on Alfred's softly brushed hair.

The weight immediately came crashing over him. It wasn't that the crown was all that heavy, but with Yao's words, Alfred just then seemed to realize that he was now expected to take responsibility for over ten, fifteen million people. Oh god, he just wanted to go back to Matthew and their tiny home and chase raccoons that tried to eat their vegetable garden and go work in the fields all day to come home and buy a loaf of bread to share and just smile as they told each other how work was, pretending that they weren't just scraping by every single day...

Alfred missed the simplicity of a commoner's life. Now he understood what Arthur meant when he said, a week ago, that being royalty wasn't as cracked up as it seems to be. And, he reminded himself in desperation, he was just getting started.

"Arthur Kirkland, by the power granted to me as Ace of Spades by both the Kingdom and the Gods, I declare you the new Queen of Spades. Accept your position and fulfill your duties with honour. Watch over the land and its people and abide by your oath." Mathias followed Yao's lead, and perched the crown upon Arthur's head.

Arthur's heart swelled with pride, and he suddenly felt tears pricking at his eyes. What would his mother think if she saw him right now? He was finally Queen, the position he was trained to take every since he was a small child. He had finally accomplished his destiny. He had finally become worth something. Something inside of him had snapped into place. The weight of the crown felt so right on top of his head.

He'd been waiting for this for so long. His chest puffed up as he let himself take a breath, telling himself everything would be alright. They'd be alright.

"Rise, King and Queen of Spades, aru." Yao then motioned to them, and on common accord, the two got up, the weight of their new crowns and artefacts weighing upon their shoulders. They turned to each other and tried to guess how the other was feeling, but decided that they'd speak later. For now, they'd just smile to each other.

"We, as the Nation of Spades, beseech you to grant the new Royal Couple the power, wisdom and courage required to rule the country with justice and fairness." Mathias finished, and both Arthur and Alfred closed their eyes.

It was like breathing anew. It was like being reborn. They felt entirely rebuilt from scratch, as if they weren't even the same people anymore.

Heart hammering in their chests, they opened their eyes, looked at each other once more, then they spun around, parting to each leave the way they came.

It was over.

They were officially King and Queen of Spades now.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

**At the very end, there's a Legend of Zelda reference. Can you catch it for a cookie? (Also, for more cookies, try guessing what the deal is with the chapter titles. Only one person got it so far :3)**

**Once again, I'm sorry for a very descriptive chapter, but it had to happen. I couldn't just snap my fingers and magically coronate them. (And wed them, although I did quite enjoy writing the wedding ^^; Ah, tsunderes...). Hope this chapter didn't seem too long and pointless to you, and if it did, don't worry. To make up, the next chapter is coming up soon ;w;**

**(Also, I totally lacked imagination when I wrote the coronation scene. Sorry for all the repeats. It's a very protocol-strict ceremony, though, so just pretend that's it xD)**

**Anyways, hope this chapter didn't feel too long or repetitive to you... and if it did, I'm sincerely sorry :C Comments, criticism and feedback of any kind is loved! And flames, well... I use flames to make campfires over which I have Italy make pasta (Paint it White, anyone? xD). SO PLEASE REVIEW! Or comment. Or I dunno what term FFN has come up with this time. What's the difference between reviews and comments, anyways? Ahhhh, anyways. PLEASE... LEAVE ME A WORD :D**


	6. Eton

**Author's Notes**

**Slice of life: I've got until Sunday to start and finish a Chibirisu cosplay... My reaction? Challenge accepted (with a schedule as booked as mine, it's really going to be a challenge xD). Wish me luck! :3**

**Only one person got the Zelda reference right... Come on, guys, play Zelda! ecause I said so! It's a freakin amazing game :D Asides that, we're up to a total of two people who got the chapter title explanation right, which is good! To all three of these people, cookies forever! :D**

**Also, yes, the kiss was my favourite part to write X) I had that down in my planning notebook since the idea for this story first came up back in January, hahaha X)**

**Alright, so as usual, here we go for the massive thank you roll, so big thanks to: HeroicVal-Rye, Luna-Discord, W-I-T, ZhangArronXun, bobness, Nanami of Falling Snow, phuongly, BadApple123, Ember Hinote, PKAquaFlame, and my two anonymous reviewers :D **

**And insert sudden mood change :'D This chapter isn't as magical as the last one, but... Well, do try and enjoy xD**

**Warnings: Violence :3**

* * *

"Everything is provided for you, Your Majesties." The maid that had escorted them to their shared chambers told them, Holding the door open and bowing as they entered.

"What do you mean?" Alfred asked innocently, albeit tiredly as he looked around, noticing the scented candles, the soft light, and the champagne on the night table.

Arthur seemed to catch on pretty quickly.

"Nothing!" he blushed furiously. "Thank you, madam. We'll take care of the rest." He addressed the maid, cheeks red.

"Yes Sir. Have a good night." She wished them before leaving, and Arthur couldn't help but think that there was a second sense to her words.

"Yo, what did she mean, by fully provided?" Alfred asked again, yawning as he kicked his shoes off.

"Nothing. Just... A traditional practice. W-We don't have to... do it, or anything." Arthur immediately walked around, blowing out all the candles and opening the windows and balcony door. He turned on the lights completely, and took the bottle of champagne, putting it on the coffee table further away from their bed.

_Their _bed. The word felt so foreign to him. They'd have to share everything now. It felt weird, but strangely enough... not unpleasant.

"Whatever. I'm too tired. I'm gonna go get changed." Alfred stretched and whined, then threw open one of the drawers next to him and rifled through them to pull out a navy blue pyjama. Arthur watched him leave and only sighed when the door to the bathroom clicked closed.

Tired beyond his wits by the day's events as well, Arthur pulled out his own night clothes and made quick work of getting changed. He'd dimmed the lights and slipped into bed even before Alfred came out of the bathroom.

"So how does this work?" he asked, dropping his dirty clothes on the ground.

"What?" Arthur turned around, looking at him wearily.

"Sleeping arrangements. How does this work?" Alfred blushed, looking everywhere but at Arthur.

"W-Well..." Technically, the bed was big enough for two, which was its intended purpose, but why would they share a bed with someone they hated? It would make no sense. People who hated each other didn't share beds...

"Uhhhh, aren't there any other beds around here?" Alfred chuckled nervously, looking around.

"I-Idiot, this is a joint chamber for the King and Queen after they get married, of course there's no other bed." Arthur bristled, his blush and Alfred's making quite the matching pair.

"H-Hehe, they didn't think very convenient, huh?" Alfred fumbled around for his words. "Think we can ask them for another bed in here tomorrow?"

Arthur looked at him a bit incredulously, then sighed.

"Whatever. Just go to sleep."

"Where?"

"On the couch, I don't know."

"W-What? But why do you get the comfortable bed?"

"I got here first."

"But I want it, too."

"You should've hurried."

"I don't want to sleep on the couch!"

"Alfred, shut up and go to sleep."

"Fine, but tomorrow, I'm calling the bed!" Alfred huffily finished, crossing his arms and briskly walking over to the couch. Arthur listened as he muttered to himself, and heard the soft clink of his glasses on the mahogany coffee table. He only let himself take a breath when he heard Alfred lying down and making himself comfortable.

After a few minutes, the noise stopped, and Arthur decided that they both better get some sleep. He closed his eyes and gave up to darkness, trying to ignore how his heart was protesting at their sleeping arrangements.

First night after getting married, and they sleep separately. Although Arthur justified it by telling himself he didn't like Alfred anyways, the truth was bitter. The entire situation was pitiful.

They both slept through the night quite soundly, as their bodies and minds, tired from both the marriage, coronation, and extensive briefing they'd gotten afterwards, shut down. In the early morning hours, though, Arthur awoke to something moving next to him.

"W-Wha..." he groaned sleepily as something pushed him to the side.

"The couch was uncomfortable." Alfred's gruff voice reached his ears, but Arthur was too tired to get angry.

"You're such a crybaby..." he sighed, feeling his eyelids droop again.

"Shut up, you're a girl because you refused to take the couch and wanted the bed." Alfred replied, slipping in next to him under the covers.

"No, you shut up..." Arthur yawned, out of replies. "Just... Stay on your side."

"I wasn't going to do otherwise." Alfred yawned as well, cuddling under the blankets.

"Sweet dreams, Alfred."

"Night, Arthur."

And somewhere in the back of their minds, they realized that this was the first sign of civility they'd shown all day. To avoid thinking too much, they both let the darkness consume them.

When the sun rose up in the sky and the light filtered through the semi-opaque curtains, a maid came in to prepare their clothes for the day. She found them pressed close under the covers, legs tangled, Arthur laying against Alfred's chest and the latter's arms keeping the former close in a very protective hold.

_...OOOOOOOOOOOO..._

"What are we doing, again?" Alfred asked as they were led down the front steps of the castle.

"Parading in the streets so the citizens can see their new leaders." Arthur reminded him, sighing hopelessly.

"That sounds a bit... Uhhh... over-the-top, does it not?" The King mused out loud.

"Not really. All previous Kings and Queens did it the day after their coronation. Besides, it won't be long. Just an hour. We'll ride through the Second, and maybe the Third districts. Smile and wave, Alfred." Arthur stepped into the carriage and held his hand out for his King to take. Alfred took it and hoisted himself in, sitting down next to Arthur on the fluffy cushions as the carriage started moving.

"Right. Just smile and wave." Alfred sighed, entirely unmotivated.

"You'll do fine. I trust that even someone like you know how to look good." Arthur quipped, immediately blushing when he realized that his sentence didn't come out right.

"I know how to... look good?" Alfred raised a brow incredulously, turning to look at Arthur. The latter immediately turned his head away to avoid having Alfred see his blush.

"S-Shut up! Just look outside, okay? We'll be outside the castle grounds in a moment, so just pretend the outside fascinates you." He mumbled, turning his head out the window as well.

Alfred figured he'd simply woken up on the wrong side of the bed and shrugged, doing as he was told. Soon enough, a smaller escort of guards surrounded their carriage, and they rode into the city.

Alfred's first reaction was that of nervous surprise. He was completely overwhelmed by the sound of cheers and applause and screams. The people, _his _people, went by in a flash, and he was completely taken by how many they were. Like an endless sea of people.

He turned to Arthur for reassurance, and was struck once more by Arthur's expression.

He was smiling. Smiling gently, fondly, and waving out the window, his eyes darting back and forth as he seemingly looked at every single person cheering for them outside.

Arthur looked absolutely breathtaking, the light falling across his sandy locks, glinting off his eyes of a deepest green, and basking him in some kind of godly aura. Even his eyebrows looked good- better than usual- on him. The most attractive thing about him, though, was the smile.

Alfred decided he had to get Arthur to smile more often. A fond smile of his own bloomed across his face as he turned back outside, idly waving at the crowd of people that were now theirs to rule and protect.

"They're so enthusiastic..." he whispered, somewhat disbelieving at first.

"Well, we are their new King and Queen, the ones who are supposed to help them live better, and all." Arthur replied without looking back.

"Well I wouldn't have cheered for your father when he was King..." Alfred muttered, a thin frown overcoming his features.

Arthur looked back at him, noticing the frown, and rolled his eyes.

"He wasn't a devoted monarch. We will be. Now stop frowning, people will think you're mad at them." He turned back to his window and kept waving.

Alfred shrugged, and figured he'd just have to do better than the King that came before him. Turning back to the window, he let the smile slide back onto his face.

Suddenly, like an unexpected explosion, cries started emanating from the crowd to the carriage's left. They got louder and louder, along with screams and yells, and the previously joyous mood above everyone seemed to dissipate all too quickly.

"What's going on?" Alfred asked, looking out the window to try and spot the source of the commotion.

"Idiot, keep your head inside!" Arthur immediately pulled him back, looking outside for himself.

"I thought you asked me to-" Alfred started, but Arthur hushed him quickly.

"I'm trained for this, you aren't." He simply stated before his eyes went dark. "It's a protest."

"A protest?" Alfred's heart sank. "What for?"

"They're protesting against us." Arthur replied in a tone that blatantly said he was expecting something like this.

"W-What? Why?" Alfred's eyes widened as he wondered if they'd already done something wrong, something that had upset the people. It hadn't even been a week!

"Don't fret. Just the usual discontented citizens." The protest was taking over all too quickly though, as the streets were turning into chaos. "It'll be alright. They're protesting for the hell of it. We haven't done anything wrong." Not yet.

"Does that mean they're protesting because they don't like us?" Alfred asked with such innocence that Arthur's heart went out completely to him. "Is it because... I'm not royalty?"

"No, Alfred, it's nothing like that." Arthur immediately replied, shaking his head. "Come on. I think we should just go home." The sound of struggles had become too loud for Arthur's liking. They had to get out before something bad happened.

"B-But who's gonna help everyone?" Alfred asked again with painful innocence. He glanced outside the window and noted the screaming and yelling and general disarray. The crowd had broken up, people fleeing left and right, and Alfred's heart twisted unpleasantly at the sight of such madness.

"The guards will take care of it." Arthur absently replied before putting his upper body out the window and yelling to the carriage driver to take them back to the castle.

"N-No, but I mean, right now!" Alfred frantically pulled Arthur back inside, eliciting a cry from the latter, and pointed to the scrambling crowd. Lots of people were screaming, calling for their loved ones, running... A fight had started and was spreading, fists being exchanged like it was common courtesy. Alfred swore he even saw the glint of a knife sporadically in the crowd.

"Right now, here's what's not going to happen." Arthur took Alfred by the shoulders and made him look straight into his eyes. Alfred blushed and couldn't deny that Arthur's eyes were absolutely gorgeous.

But... liking a physical trait is pretty common. This didn't mean Alfred liked Arthur, not at all.

"You are not going to get out of this carriage to help anyone, and you and I won't be staying around any longer." As if to back up his claim, the carriage started moving, turning about to return the way they came.

"What? How could you say that? People need help out here!" Alfred protested vehemently.

"Alfred, listen to me."

"N-No, you're trying to kill your –our- people, Arthur!" Alfred shook his head.

"I'm not, Alfred, just listen to me for a second-"

"I'm not going to listen if you're going to be cruel and heartless like this!" Alfred shook his head.

"Alfred, you're being a child!" Arthur suddenly erupted, gritting his teeth, gripping Alfred's shoulders tightly. "You have to listen to me and understand something..." he went on, a bit quieter, and Alfred could practically read the regret in his eyes. "You... You can't be a hero for everyone, Alfred."

"You're wrong." Alfred immediately replied, his breath hitching. "I... I can do anything... I'm King now, and it's my responsibility to help-"

"Yes, it is. But not by getting yourself involved in scuffles like this. You sign papers. You don't control crowds." Arthur sighed.

Alfred found nothing to reply because he was sure his heart would lurch if he spoke. He turned his eyes outside instead, and took in the mayhem. Men were fighting, fists flying and violent swears being yelled. Some people were lying on the ground already, barely avoiding being trampled. Guards were systematically detaining fighting people, and escorting citizens out towards the back alleys. Fathers were regrettably pulling away struggling mothers screaming for their children. And in the middle of it all, a small, beautiful girl with twin, chocolate-coloured pigtails and a pink dress was crying hysterically, blood splattered on her clothes and cheek.

Alfred felt faint.

"A-Arthur, p-please." He pleaded, looking up at Arthur, eyes swimming with unshed tears. "P-Please, you've got to let me help her, at least." Both their eyes went back to the little girl, who was looking around, innocent brown eyes surveying the crowd for her mother. "P-Please, we can't just leave her there!"

Arthur threw one last look at the frightened girl and turned his eyes away, shutting them tightly in pain.

"I'm sorry, Alfred. You're going to see over time that as King, you'll have to make many sacrifices..." he finally let go of Alfred and retreated back to his side of the carriage. "And this is just one of the many that will come to pass."

Alfred didn't reply, eyes wide in shock, and mechanically turned his eyes back outside, watching the mayhem with weakly veiled horror. The panic and hysteria outside seemed to be affecting him directly as something heavily unpleasant built up within him. Alfred felt, and looked like he was going to be sick.

From the side, Arthur watched over Alfred quietly and worriedly as they quickly wove through the crowd, back towards the castle. Arthur let out a relieved breath when they entered the castle gates without any repercussions. At the foot of the entrance garden, Arthur got off quickly and opened Alfred's door, putting his hand out for Alfred to take.

Alfred silently looked at him for a second, his eyes betraying how completely overwhelmed he was, and then delicately took Arthur's hand. The Queen helped him get down and steadied him when he stumbled upon touching ground.

"Are you alright?" Arthur dared ask in a swift whisper, eyes worriedly raking across Alfred's face.

Alfred merely nodded and started walking through the cobblestone path to the front steps. Nothing felt real anymore. The image of the little girl, caught in a maelstrom of danger and fear, punished for her innocence, and splattered with _blood _was bright as day in his head. And one fact came out like black against white.

It was his fault.

The protesters were protesting against him and Arthur. Most probably him, since he was the newly appointed King. So everything had been his fault. Alfred felt like he was going to explode.

Arthur walked a step behind him, thinly veiled worry in his eyes as he noted how Alfred seemed to be really affected by the experience. He had a bad feeling about it all.

They walked up the steps and the servants opened the doors for them, letting them access the inside. Immediately, as Arthur had predicted, they were flocked by concerned maids and the Jack, at the head.

"News travel fast, aru." Yao explained as they all surrounded the two monarchs.

"That's to be expected." Arthur nodded.

"Are you both unharmed, aru?" Yao looked at the both of them, of course not missing how Alfred seemed lost, detached, and as white as a sheet.

"I... We're not physically hurt." Arthur specified, throwing a furtive glance at Alfred, who hadn't said a single thing.

"That's good, I guess." Yao sighed. "Would you like to sit down? Perhaps eat or drink something, aru?" he suggested.

It was at that point that Alfred seemed to snap out of his trance and put his hand out, clearing a way through the ring of maids watching him concernedly. Arthur swallowed his words and carefully checked his movements.

"Alfred?" he called.

"I'm fine." Alfred turned around and gave him a weak, crumbling grin.

"Do you want anything, Alfred, aru?" Yao asked him, his concern veiled much better than Arthur's.

"Nah." Alfred shook his head, giving a trembling laugh that was merely a ghost of his usual boisterous laugh. His head hurt so much, he wanted to fall and just close his eyes. Something was pulsing harshly in the back of his head, and his limbs felt weak, his vision blurry. "I think I'm just going to-" he took another step, and everything went black.

As Alfred fainted, he did not hear the maids scream, the Jack yell for a physician, and did not feel Arthur's arms soften his fall, gently laying him on the ground, his worried voice calling his name as he sunk into oblivion.

_...OOOOOOOOOOOOOO..._

Alfred woke up to Yao's stare on him. He immediately shot up, rubbing his head and groaning in pain as life returned to his body.

"How long have I been out?" he asked, noticing that his clothes hadn't been changed yet.

"A few hours. Nothing much." Yao shrugged. "I'll call the physician, aru."

"No." Alfred shook his head, pushing the covers off of him. "I want to see Arthur."

"Stay where you are, aru." Yao stopped him before he could move. "The Queen is downstairs training with the Ace. He will come up to see you when he's done."

Alfred looked at him a bit, as if weighing him out, then decided it wasn't worth it and laid back down.

"What happened?" he finally asked in a quiet voice, reluctant to hear the answer.

"You fainted from shock, aru." Yao explained. "You mustn't stress so much, Alfred, it's bad for your health."

"B-But..." Alfred bit his lip, shutting his eyes and reliving the citizens' cries. "It was my fault... The little girl..."

"Alfred, if you get upset over everything like this, you will not be able to work well enough to help your citizens. You are helping nobody by blaming yourself right now, aru." The Jack insisted.

"But I want to be a hero. I have to be their hero." Alfred turned his wide, pleading gaze to Yao. "I-I couldn't believe people were being hurt because of me. I can't be a hero if I hurt people, especially not the people I'm in charge of."

"I know, aru." Yao nodded, a gentle, motherly tone slipping into his voice. "But you will be another kind of hero if you help your country rise as King. And that kind of hero, aru... That is the one you must absolutely become."

Alfred thought about this for a second, and then slowly, unsurely, he nodded. He then turned his eyes up at Yao, and the latter was mildly surprised to see determination burning deep within his gaze.

"Alright then. I've decided." He slowly announced, blue eyes flickering. "I want to be a hero. For as many people as possible."

And the intensity of the gaze he'd put on Yao proved to the latter that something had been born inside of Alfred, something that was essential to his ascent as King of Spades.

"Alright, then." He couldn't help but smirk, facing the challenge head-on. "We better get started, aru."

* * *

**Author's Notes**

**If this hasn't convinced you that Alfred's not mentally prepared to be a King yet, then I dunno what will. That idealistic sense of heroism makes him want to save everyone in any way he can, but as much as he's made allies when he became King, he's also made enemies. So, most obviously, he is going to be affected by everything his enemies do, and drastically so for the first few bits. He'll learn, though, just as Arthur learned and is trying to teach him. Alfred still has a very long way to go.**

**Also, I found it a bit sad to make them sleep apart on the night of their wedding, so… yeah, this happened. I regret nothing. Looks like their subconscious is working against them ;D (Or maybe it's the superior force dictating their every move… Yours truly).**

**Well… I hope that wasn't too bad. Remember that criticism is always very welcome, because really, I just want to make this an enjoyable read, so any comments/questions/suggestions are extremely welcome :D Please review! ^^**


	7. Carolina

**Author's Notes**

**That Chibirisu cosplay I wanted to make? Got it done in 7 hours and went to sleep at 5AM e_e I would've gotten more sleep, but... the girl who was supposed to bring the sewing machine didn't come, so I had to do it all by hand. I'M TIRED NOW.**

**Also, I just realized that I made a Madagascar reference last chapter. LOL.**

**Enough about me. More about you! And namely, all the beautiful people that reviewed! This includes phuongly, xXxPrettyinPinkxXx, GeenieMac, SamuraiSal1, BadApple123, kurichan729, Rainstorm-Mosspath, mlpnkobnhjui, OmgPandi, Ember Hinote and Canada Cowboy! Thanks, you guys! Your comments are beautiful ;w;**

**I was actually surprised at the number of people that guessed that Alfred would have trouble overcoming some challenges, mainly with the pressure of his responsibilities as King. I didn't think you guys would draw general conclusions because of one situation in particular... but you did! You guys are good at this 'deduction' game :D Great job ^^ **

**And no, the little girl wasn't anybody in particular. Just some random citizen :'D**

**Alright! Here we go for chapter 7... Hope you guys enjoy! :3**

* * *

That afternoon, Alfred started classes with his tutor. The man was old, frail and bony, had white hair and a white beard to match, and had a sour expression on his face that showed how much he disliked being where he was.

At that moment, it was in a room furnished with tables and chairs, and a whiteboard in the front. Sometimes it was used for reunions, and other times, like the current one, it served to teaching royals and royals-to-be. Arthur had experienced the endless days spent inside the white room during his childhood and was not keen on returning. It was decided that it was now Alfred's turn to experience it.

"I don't get it. " Alfred whined as he scratched his head. "I'm going to have to learn Spades' history from top to bottom, name all the past Kings and Queens, know everything about the country and all the other kingdoms? And all this in three weeks' time? " He sighed. "Sounds a bit… Tight in time, doesn't it? "

"You cannot expect to rule a country if you cannot learn, Your Majesty. " His tutor sniffed contemptuously. Alfred did his best to ignore him.

"Alright. Where do I start?" the King asked as he eyed the piles of old, dusty books in front of him. "Don't tell me I'm gonna have to read all that. "

"In fact, you will have to read all that, your Majesty. It's all of Spades' history. We'll start with this and progress as time goes on." the old man nodded and handed him a heavy tome.

"Err… Sure." Alfred gulped down nervously and gingerly opened the book to the first page. Immediately, small writing all over the page assailed his eyes, and he reeled for a second. "W-Wait, just how many pages does this book have, anyway? "

His tutor didn't answer his question and merely crossed his arms.

"Start reading at the top. Out loud. " he ordered dryly.

Alfred looked up at him desperately, as if asking if he was really going to do this to him. The unwavering severity in the old man's eyes, though, proved that Alfred wouldn't be moving from his spot until he did what was asked of him. Well then. Time to use what little reading skills he had to use.

"The kingdom of Spades… has long… been a pro…pro… OH. Prosperous land. " he chuckled nervously as he trailed his index finger across the page, below the small letters that confused him entirely. "And, uhmm… Its in…habi…tants have long been farmers… working in the fields to pro… provide the Kingdom and its allies… with n-nourissment… No, wait, uhh.. Nourishment. Yeah. Nourishment and clothing. " his head was already hurting by the end of the introduction paragraph.

His tutor did not seem impressed at all. Instead, he was staring at Alfred with as much disgust as he could seemingly muster.

Alfred felt horrible and wished he didn't have to do this alone. Having Arthur next to him would have been much better.

"Your reading is horrible, your Majesty. " Alfred's tutor commented, making Alfred feel even more self-conscious.

"I… I know. " the latter answered quietly, cheeks burning in shame.

"You will never be able to rule a Kingdom if you can't even read. "

"I know. " Alfred's heart lurched, and he gripped the book tightly in his hands.

"You will have to practice outside of tutoring hours as well if you wish to catch up. " the tone in his voice suggested that he had no choice.

"I'll do my best to learn…" Alfred nodded a bit blankly, not wanting to look up and meet his tutor's eyes.

"Do you know your alphabet, your Majesty, or do we have to go all the way back to that as well? " the way his tutor pronounced those words dripping with disdain proved to Alfred that any answer to that question wouldn't be satisfactory.

"N-No… I can read, I just can't… do it too quickly. " he muttered, eyes darting about nervously.

"Oh, and can you write, your Majesty, or should I hold your hand and show you how to spell? " another sneer hit another pang in Alfred's heart, and despite the frustration welling up within him, he couldn't seem to talk back.

"N-No, I can write, but, uhh… I make plenty of spelling mistakes…" he answered truthfully, feeling extremely uncomfortable.

"Well, I guess it can't be helped. " his tutor sighed in desperation. "We've got a long way to go. "

"I know. "

"Alright. Start over. The same paragraph until your read it smoothly. "

"W-What? But it'll take a lot more than just three weeks to do all this if I have to re-read all the passages where I make mistakes!" Alfred protested, finally turning his eyes up to meet his tutor's in a pleading gaze.

"Well, you'll have to learn, Your Majesty. You can't do anything if you can't read or write, much less know your own country like the back of your hand." His tutor sneered, arms crossed.

Alfred wordlessly turned back down to his book, his heart clenching painfully at the next muttered words he heard, and that he probably wasn't supposed to hear.

"No surprise there. After all, you are just a lowly peasant."

…_OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO…_

Alfred later left the room extremely tired and hopeless. He'd honestly understood nothing of what he'd been made to read, and it was somewhat disheartening after he had spent the entire day on it, as the darkness outside the windows suggested. He felt horrible, to say the least.

Alfred sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets and making his way back to Arthur's and his room. His head was buzzing with thoughts, most of them self-deprecating as letters and words swirled wildly within his cranium. He was really tired, and all he wanted to do was sleep now.

But… He only had three weeks to learn… Sleeping would do him no good. It would only waste time, and time was something he simply didn't have at the moment.

Changing his mind at the very last moment, Alfred headed right instead of left, and, leaving behind a husband who, unbeknownst to him, would be concerned about his disappearance for the rest of the night, he headed to the library.

It went on like that for the next week or almost. Arthur spent his time dealing with the threat of Clubs and trained a lot with the Ace. This meant he barely had time for himself, and when he did, he just couldn't find Alfred anywhere. So he wandered the hallways alone, keeping silent most of the time.

Alfred, to Arthur's growing concern, only came to bed in the early morning hours and had already left by the time the maids woke Arthur up for his day. They never spoke anymore, and slowly, but surely, Arthur found that there was some kind of barrier in between them. And he hated it, he hated feeling so far from Alfred when, a week ago, he had felt amazingly close to his husband.

He was already sick and tired of not having Alfred by his side.

That night, he went up to their room after he'd finished discussing a free-trade agreement between Spades and Diamonds with his Jack, and quite predictably, did not find Alfred anywhere to be found, even if it was close to midnight.

Sighing, he decided he wouldn't stand for this kind of abandonment anymore and walked straight back out of their room again. He would find Alfred, and make him explain himself for sure.

He started in the kitchen, wondering if Alfred had perhaps gone for a midnight snack. When he got no luck, he went to his study, noting with disappointment that he hadn't been there, either. The halls were dark as he walked through them, biting his lip as he thought of places where Alfred could possibly be. He turned back in the direction of their room, and walked past it, investigating in the King's private quarters without any results either. Quite hopeless, he headed back, thinking hard. Alfred had recently started studying, so where could he be?

And then it hit him. Maybe he had gone to the library to pick up a book. With that thought in mind, Arthur immediately walked past their room again and made his way to the library.

It was dark inside when he entered. Nobody seemed to be there. Still, taking a breath lined with the smell of old books, Arthur stepped inside, picking up a candle at the door before making his way through the rows and rows of neatly arranged books. His eyes went left and right, looking past the volumes he loved running his fingers over, the books he'd read over and over again when he was a child, the new and old ones he'd held in his hands with equal tenderness.

Finally, a light in the dark quite literally appeared. Arthur stopped at a soft glow coming from the study tables, and immediately made his way there, hoping to have hit the jackpot.

He did. When he turned the corner, he was faced with the sight of wax from a burning candle dripping systematically on the wooden table where the boy he was looking for was asleep, head set snugly against his arms, glasses lopsided on the bridge of his nose.

"You're insufferable..." Arthur sighed, rubbing his forehead tiredly, wondering if Alfred had systematically been falling asleep in the library these past few nights. That brought up the question of 'why?', though, and Arthur fully intended to get answers.

Gently taking Alfred by the shoulders, he shook him in the effort to wake him up.

"Alfred... Come on, you'll hurt yourself if you fall asleep like this." He called, shaking his harder and harder until a groan came from the body beneath his fingers. "That's a good lad. Now come on, let's get you to bed." Arthur, too busy retaining the urge to ruffle Alfred's hair, did not realize that his tone was caring and worried.

"Hmmm?" Alfred mumbled as he fluttered his eyes open. "W-What's going on...?" he yawned, slowly pushing himself up and stretching tiredly. Arthur's heart lurched when he noticed the lines under his eyes, and the glazed-over look in them.

"You fell asleep." The Queen told him. "I woke you up so you could move to the bed."

"Hmm..." Alfred nodded, obviously not in the right state of consciousness. "Right. Bed... I'll, uhh..." he yawned again. "... Do that later..." and he turned his eyes down to the book he had fallen asleep on.

"What are you doing, anyways?" Arthur inquired, only mildly irritated.

"Studying..." Alfred blinked to keep his gaze clear, but it wasn't working. His eyesight was blurry, and when he blinked to clear it, he had to force his eyelids to open again. They felt like lead, just closing on their own.

"Well, I say you're done studying for tonight." Arthur put a hand on Alfred's book, a small voice in the back of his head telling him that this has been going on for the past week or so.

"N-No!" Alfred suddenly put his hand on Arthur's to keep him from closing his book. Delicious heat coursed through both of them, and Arthur, the most conscious of them both, removed his hand quickly, blushing.

"What do you mean, no?" he crossed his arms.

"I... I have to study..." Alfred looked up at him pleadingly, as if begging him to understand. "I... Gonna be a great King... Need to learn quickly..." he visibly was struggling to keep his eyes open, though.

"Alfred, that's enough..." Arthur gently touched his shoulder, his heart aching at the sight of his King struggling so much. "This is becoming unhealthy for you."

"It's not unhealthy. It's amazing. Look, Arthur, I can read..." Alfred gave him a tired, half-hearted smile, and pulled the candles closer to the book so he could see the words. "History with Diamonds has always been complex... With one R-Royal Family, relations were... tense, and with the other, they were pros... prosperous."

And despite the obvious improvement in Alfred's reading, Arthur couldn't bear to listen to him any longer. The boy sounded like he would faint in the middle of his next sentence.

"... Free-trade has always been... con-tro-vers-ial... controversial, yeah, and has been discussed between kingdoms varius... ehh, no. Various times. The last in... instance where royals got together around a discussion table was-"

He never finished, because that's when Arthur grabbed his book and slammed it shut.

"H-Hey! I was..." he yawned again and wearily blinked. "I was doing great..."

"Alfred, that's enough." Arthur gritted his teeth, clenching his fists. "Please. Let's go to bed."

"But I can't..." Alfred protested in a low, strangely far-from-whiny voice. "I... I'm not good enough to do anything yet... I've got to keep working hard so I can be a great King..."

"Alfred, it's not going to happen if you overwork yourself like this." Arthur sighed and put his hand out. "Nobody said you weren't good enough. You are learning, and are willing to learn, which makes you the greatest of students."

"That doesn't matter." Alfred shook his head, and after a brief internal debate, his needs won over his desires, and he took Arthur's hand. "I'm still not good enough to do anything."

"Alfred, don't say that..." Arthur bit his lip as he pulled his King up, forced to support him as he stumbled against him. "You're wearing yourself out... Whoever gave you that idea?"

"The guy who teaches me says so all the time..." Alfred muttered as he took a moment to straighten himself out. "Says I'm just some s-stupid commoner and that I'll never be King if I can't even read and write correctly." He turned his eyes away, ashamed.

"Since when have you listened to what others think?" Arthur gripped Alfred's hand tighter and took his candle in the other, blowing out the candles on the table and leading Alfred through the semi-darkness, towards the exit.

"Since I decided I wanted to be the best King for my nation..." Alfred huffed childishly as he stumbled at every second step, following Arthur out.

"You won't be so much of a great King if you fall asleep at every discussion and every treaty signing." Arthur rolled his eyes. "Think logically, Alfred. You are a human before a King. There are priorities in life."

"He said I had to learn within the span of three weeks if I wanted to become worthy of being King of Spades." Alfred murmured, eyes downcast and shadowed in the darkness.

"Why would he give you three weeks?" Arthur raised a brow, opening the door out to the hallway and leading Alfred out.

"I don't know. He just did." Alfred shrugged hopelessly. "It's been a week, and all I've done is learn the beginnings of Spades' history. That, and I can read pretty well, but I have to learn to write without spelling mistakes, and calculate more complex equations, not to mention learn about the current issues revolving around the four Kingdoms and the issues of Spades..."

"You have time." Arthur cut him off, his grip tightening on Alfred's hand. "You have all the time you need to learn. You'll learn as you live."

"We'll learn as we live, don't you mean?" Despite the tired slur in his voice, Alfred sounded happy at that prospect. Of course, Arthur couldn't refuse him that happiness, and returned to him a small, tired smile.

"Yes, we will. We're all but one now, so whatever happens to us..." he sighed and looked up at the high, dark ceiling of the hallway. "We'll move through it together."

"Awesome." Alfred grinned weakly, and despite that, the dark hallway seemed to brighten for just one moment there.

Wordlessly, Arthur led Alfred to their joint bedroom and all but kicked the door open. With nothing left to distract him, Alfred had almost fallen asleep on Arthur again, and, grumbling obscenities about Alfred's weight, Arthur pushed and dragged him towards the bed, where he pushed him down and started removing his cape.

"Mmmm, Arthur..." Alfred yawned, weakly struggling as Arthur took the piece of clothing off and threw it carelessly on the ground.

"Less talk, more sleep." Arthur merely grunted as he opened Alfred's shirt, buttons one by one, and slid it off of him with some effort.

"What are you doing?" Alfred was doing nothing to help the process, although his voice was laced with confusion and some kind of hopeful apprehension.

"You're not going to be comfortable if you sleep in your day clothes." Arthur merely replied, blushing and feeling glad that the dark was covering his red face. "I'm doing you a favour."

To that, Alfred only laughed tiredly and wound his arms limply around Arthur, dragging him down next to him nonetheless.

"Alfred, l-let go!" Arthur hissed, going rigid in his King's arms.

"It's okay, Artie, I appreciate the gesture, but I'm so tired, I don't think anything could make me feel more comfortable than I feel right now." On a soft, fluffy bed, laying right next to Arthur.

The latter merely blushed harder and turned his eyes away, despite knowing that Alfred couldn't distinguish his features in the dim candlelight.

"Alright, but don't complain tomorrow." He half-heartedly huffed before twisting around and blowing hard to put out of the candles. They were immediately pitched into darkness, and Arthur turned back around to wish Alfred a good night before realizing that the younger was already asleep.

Arthur let a fond smile melt onto his face and briefly caressed Alfred's hair before sighing and making himself comfortable. It was only by the time that sleep had made his limbs lethargic that he realized that he'd never bothered untangling himself from Alfred's arms.

Arthur quickly fell asleep.

_...OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO..._

The next morning, Alfred woke up to an empty bed. Most obviously, Arthur had gone to work, which didn't surprise him, but that didn't stop him from feeling severely disappointed, for some reason. He got dressed and, feeling incredibly well-rested for the first time in what felt like forever, he went down for breakfast.

A newcomer with long, soft-looking brown hair tied in ponytails and caring chocolate-brown eyes came to meet him at the breakfast table, and confirmed Alfred's hypothesis that new surprises would be waiting for him every single day.

"Good morning, Your Highness."

"Good morning, Miss..."

"Michelle. Call me Michelle. Nice to meet you, I'm your new tutor."

At first, Alfred had been overenthusiastic. Michelle was nice, understanding, and didn't treat him like a lesser being. She was careful with detail, explained well, and had the patience to answer all of Alfred's questions with a smile. She was an obvious improvement from the older tutor.

Nonetheless, after parting from Michelle for the night, Alfred couldn't help but wonder what the change was for. With that goal in mind, he confronted Arthur just as the latter slipped into bed, sighing as his soft sandy hair hit the pillows.

"Arthur, I got my new tutor today." He immediately announced after Arthur turned the lights off.

"That's wonderful, Alfred. I trust she is nice?" Arthur replied, the weariness obvious in his voice.

"Very. She understands me so much better." Alfred grinned brightly, though Arthur, with his back turned, couldn't see it.

"I'm glad." Arthur merely replied in a tone that suggested that they should both get some sleep.

"But Arthur..." Alfred started again after a moment of silence, in a more subdued voice, unwilling to let the subject drop. "... Why was I given a new tutor?"

"I got Yao to fire the old one." Arthur bluntly replied, which shocked Alfred to some degree.

"R-Really? Why?" he wasn't complaining, but...

"He wasn't willing to adapt his teaching methods. He can't teach you the way he taught me, so I figured I would get someone who would deal better with you." Arthur explained. "Now get some sleep."

Alfred closed his mouth, intending to do just that, but deep inside, the question was still burning.

"Is it... Is it because I'm a commoner?" he asked very quietly, as if afraid of the response.

To that, Arthur only hesitated for a second, before turning around to face Alfred's in the dark.

"You have to understand that despite legally being a King, a lot of people still don't accept you as such." He started slowly, as if talking to a child.

Alfred didn't know what hurt worse- the fact that people still discriminated him because of his lineage, or the fact that Arthur thought he was incapable of handling the truth. His eyes downcast, he idly played with the bed sheets.

Arthur looked at him for a moment, waiting for a response, but, realizing he wasn't getting one, he sighed and gently put his hand on top of Alfred's for a second, blushing.

"Alfred, I just wanted to get you a tutor that wouldn't discriminate you for being, well... not royalty."

"I know." That didn't make it hurt any less, though.

"It's just so you'll learn easier." Arthur tried again, drawing his hand back to his chest as he noted the undercover hurt in Alfred's tone.

"I know." Alfred repeated, closing his eyes. He was tired.

Arthur bit his lip, and sighed, closing his eyes as well. It sounded like there would be no listening to reason that night.

"Alfred..." he merely whispered in the dark. "You needed someone who would help you learn and understand, because it's only by learning and understanding that you'll become that much closer to rising as a King."

* * *

**Author's Notes**

**Yes, that is Seychelles.**

**Also, you can imagine that Alfred and Matthew, having been left to fend for themselves since they were young, never did have time to go to school. As alluded to in previous chapters, Matthew has learned to read and write and does so quite often, but Alfred, always having been the more active one, has always concentrated on survival, so physical work over studying.**

**So maybe Arthur did go overboard by firing the guy, but with slight reason. It's true that Alfred did need an extra push to catch up with everything he didn't know, so the man's severity was kind of justified... But discriminating and lessening him and making him overwork himself was not. Which is why Arthur fired him. You can imagine that Michelle would be strict as well, but would know how to speak on equal footing with Alfred.**

**Asides that, not much to say here... More stuff going on, USUK foreshadowing and all that jazz... I hope this was okay :D Comments/suggestion/criticism? My inbox is always open for you (: So please review!**


	8. Duke

**Author's Notes**

**TIMESKIP BETWEEN THE LAST CHAPTER AND THIS ONE!**

**Hello, everybody, how are you? Me? I'm fine, great, even. Counting down the days to our anime convention X) ELEVEN DAYS! **

**I just really want to say to everyone that reviewed... My review replies might sound repetitive and short, but I appreciate every single word you write to me ;w; Your comments are gorgeous, and I love hearing them. Thank you so much, bobness, MissFr34k, Nanami of Falling Snow, Rainstorm-Mosspath, ZhangArronXun, OmgPandi, mlpnkobnhjui, BadApple123, Ember Hinote and kurichan729, as well as my one anonymous reviewer! **

**To address the anonymous reviewer's question about how slow the pacing is (and if this would end up saga-length, like Twilight, but with less sparkling vampires xD), let me just say that yes, the pacing is slow, because I want to go day-by-day with what Alfred and Arthur have to overcome. This isn't just a romance story, it's also an action/adventure story, and their every day is an adventure. And even if it was only a romance story, I'd still give it a slow pacing. I just hate rushing events. I also have to show how Alfred is struggling with his new life, and how Arthur is faring as the Queen he was always trained to become. So yes, tl;dr: the pacing is slow, and it's done on purpose. Sorry if that bothers you any, but that's how it's gonna be xD I dunno how long the fic is going to be, but it's not going to end in thenext 2 chapters ;P**

**Anyways, less talk, more story: In which couple-fights arise and Alfred gets this much closer to looking like a true King. Enjoy!**

* * *

The hallways were calm that afternoon, as the maids quietly dusted the paintings and cleaned the carpeted floors. It was bright and sunny outside, hot and enjoyable. Everybody seemed in such a good mood that they didn't even need to talk to share their mood. Thus, the hallways were silent.

Keyword being 'were'.

"I told you not to leave your clothes lying around!"

"How is it my fault you can't even walk?"

"I can walk, it's just that when you leave things on the ground, someone is bound to slip on them!"

"I thought it was pretty funny, the way you fell."

"I hit my head against the table, you ass!"

"It was still funny."

The sounds got closer and closer, and the maids didn't even blink. A few months had already gone by, and so conversations like that were quite normal around the castle. To the castle staff's credit, they adapted very quickly to their new Royal Couple. Then again, with a couple like them...

"I can't believe you. I'm going to throw you out of a window one day."

"You're not even strong enough to lift that vase you threatened to throw at me yesterday, how do you expect to pick me up?"

... Adaptation had been the key to keeping their sanity intact.

"Good afternoon, Your Majesties." The maids in the hallway mechanically answered as the bickering couple walked down in rushed footsteps, clothed richly and obviously heading for a conference.

"Hello." Arthur grunted as they stepped by.

"Hey, nice day we're having, right?" Alfred went with the longer route, smiling at the maids and knowingly making their hearts melt. He couldn't help being attractive, really, and he knew it.

"No time for idle chat, Alfred, we have to go. This meeting is an emergency and we can't waste time." Arthur called him, never stopping to turn back.

"Says the one who spent ten minutes whining after hitting his head on a table." Alfred shrugged and followed, catching up.

"You were the one who left your clothes out for me to trip on!"

As the voices faded down the hallway, the maids sighed and continued working as if nothing had ever happened.

Just another day in Spades castle.

Quickly making their way around, the two royals piped down as they got within sight of the war room, and only crossed glances for a second before stepping in. Their generals, the Jack and the Ace were already there, hunched over a map of Spades and discussing in hushed tones.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen." Arthur called the greeting as they stepped inside, strides even and backs straight.

"Your Majesties." The generals turned around and bowed lightly as the Royal Couple stepped forward to take a glimpse of the map.

"What's the emergency?" Arthur immediately asked, noting how an alarming number of little metal soldiers were positioned on the border of Spades-Clubs.

"We just got a report from one of the border villages, right here." One of their generals pointed at a dot on the map that was not far from the cluster of metal soldiers. "They claim that the Clubs army is sitting right across the border, practically watching them go about in their daily routine. It's put the inhabitants on edge."

"How many are they?" Arthur nodded gravely, trying to think. Alfred just looked at Arthur, mentally baffled at how his eyes became a beautifully deep jade when he delved into his thoughts.

"Estimations say a thousand, although you cannot trust peasants to count over a hundred." Another general commented, which put Alfred a bit on edge. He clenched his fists and gritted his teeth, glaring, but not knowing what to say. Already, he felt useless. Why did he even bother coming?

"If they estimate it to a thousand, then a thousand it is." Arthur shook his head, seemingly also offended by the stab at commoners. He convinced himself, though, that he wasn't upset because Alfred was originally a commoner. He was merely defending his people's rights, right?

"What do we do, aru?" Yao piped in, his lips set in a thin frown. "Clubs hasn't declared war yet, but if they're sending troops to the border..."

"We could send troops to the border to defend the village and make sure nobody steps into Spades?" Alfred suggested suddenly, heart hammering in anticipation. His anticipation wilted almost immediately, though, when loud murmurs went off.

"No, that would definitely be the worst thing to do." Mathias nodded, chewing on a thin stick of wood in his mouth. He didn't look like he was judging Alfred, but just his wording made the latter feel like he'd failed yet again. "It would practically be a declaration of war on our side, whilst Clubs still hasn't stepped inside our boundaries. Come to think of it, I think that's exactly what they expect us to do."

"The Ace has a point." One of the younger generals nodded. "What should we do, though? They have advanced alarmingly fast and have set up camp dangerously close to our borders."

"We'll wait." Arthur found himself saying before he even knew it.

"What?" Alfred spluttered, shocked. "You can't actually be serious, right, Arthur? That army of a thousand is threatening a village of a few hundred, you can't let that go unnoticed!"

"Alfred, they haven't made a move yet, so we won't, either. Remember, we want to avoid a war as much as possible." Arthur explained, exasperation clear as day in his eyes.

"But we can't just leave them hanging like that. Those villagers are counting on us to-"

"Alfred." Arthur cut him off, subtly gripping his wrist as a warning, and glared at him for a second like a mother would glare while reprimanding her kid. He then turned to the assembly. "We'll wait and see how the situation turns out."

That's when Alfred pulled his hand out of his grasp, teeth gritted in frustration. It didn't bother him that Arthur was monopolizing the decisions, but... Why did he have to treat Alfred like he was a child?

It was unfair. Arthur kept talking to him so slowly, as if Alfred was too dumb to understand. He hated it, he hated not being viewed as an equal. Why wouldn't Arthur treat him as such? Did he really believe Alfred was incapable of doing anything constructive at all?

Mood effectively dampened, Alfred stayed silent, borderline sulking, during the entire meeting. He barely even listened to the other present parties discussing the situation and let his mind wander. He only moved once the meeting was adjourned, and quickly ducked out of the room without another word.

Arthur watched him go, only mildly worried. It was probably just another one of his phases, he figured. He'd be back to his normal self by that night, he figured.

Still running on that logic, he wasn't surprised when Alfred spoke in forced, clipped tones during dinner and left quickly after that, claiming he had work. Arthur figured he was probably going to go cool himself off somewhere. He rolled his eyes and calmly finished his food, sitting alone and not minding it at all because he knew that Alfred would be fine soon enough.

He started worrying, though, when that night, Alfred came in really late and slipped into the bed, on the other side completely. Arthur even rolled over so he could catch Alfred's attention, and was blatantly ignored. He fell asleep uneasily to the sight of Alfred's back. And in the morning, to his horrified surprise, he woke up alone. Not spooned by Alfred. Not squeezed in his arms. Not even with their hands on one another. But completely alone.

He didn't have time to dwell on it, though. As Queen, his priority was his country first, so whatever happened between him and Alfred... it could be second to their country's issues.

Arthur ate breakfast alone and when Alfred didn't show up for lunch with the council, he just up and left. This was getting ridiculous. Arthur was getting tired of Alfred's childish ways. Sulking like that... And then he complained that Arthur never took him seriously!

He gave Alfred one last chance, at the dinner table, but when Alfred didn't show up for that, either, Arthur decided that enough was enough. Pushing his chair back, he wordlessly stomped out of the dining hall, leaving behind the Jack and their council to wonder what was going on. Angry, and still somewhat concerned, deep inside, he paced furiously towards the King's study, where he found Alfred, as predicted. He didn't even bother knocking, just held himself back enough to avoid slamming the door open.

"Alfred, what have you been doing in here all day?" he asked, making it a point to walk over loudly and lean against his desk, watching him read.

"Reading."

"You've been reading all day? How unusual." It was actually fairly surprising to find Alfred delved so deeply in something he could normally consider 'boring'. "What are you reading?"

"Studying military tactics." Alfred briefly answered in what sounded more like a grunt than anything else.

"That's why you've been so antisocial for the past day or so?" Arthur raised an eyebrow, which clearly showed how unimpressed he was. "Sulking in your corner because of what we said in yesterday's meeting? This takes your immaturity to a whole new level, Alfred."

"Shut up." Alfred simply commented in a voice that was strangely subdued. "I'm simply learning to make better decisions, since I've obviously got nothing right now."

And Arthur immediately bristled, because unlike him, Alfred didn't hide his sarcasm. His tone was bitter and cynical, and Arthur hated being challenged like that.

"Listen, Alfred, this is obviously about yesterday, so just listen. Your suggestion was foolish and impractical, which is why we discarded it. Just get over it already." He crossed his arms, looking at his back and challenging him to turn around and face him.

"Arthur, just leave, okay?" Alfred gritted out without even turning around, grip tightening over his book.

"Oh, so making me leave is going to solve everything? Just stop sulking, Alfred, you're acting like a child over all of this-"

"Queen of Spades."

Arthur froze in the middle of his sentence, eyes widening. Alfred had turned around finally, and the glare he was giving him was nothing short of murderous.

"Queen of Spades, as a direct order from your King, you are bidden to leave this room right this instant." Alfred's eyes were cold and dark, and Arthur shivered, unwillingly shrinking under his glare.

There was a small moment of silence between them, Alfred never relenting his assault, and Arthur desperately trying to defend himself, wondering when Alfred had started using such a formal tone with him.

In the end, Arthur lost, because deep inside, he knew he couldn't refuse Alfred anything.

Something inside of him cracked and broke, and there was a sudden tightening in his chest. Arthur ignored it. It hurt, but it didn't matter. Injuries could be healed. He just needed time.

"Yes, Your Grace." He muttered out, his voice coming out so acidic that it probably would have burned right through Alfred if the latter hadn't kept eye contact with Arthur, determined. Seeing as his husband wasn't budging, Arthur backed away until he reached the door, then, finally breaking eye contact, opened it, walked out, and this time, he did slam the door shut.

Alfred glared at the door a few seconds longer, and then returned to his reading as if nothing had happened.

"Goddamnit." Arthur swore as he stalked back down the hallways, fists clenched. "Thinking he can order me around like that, who does he think he is?" he seethed.

"_Your King. He has every right to."_

"And I'm a Queen, surely I'm much stronger than this." He argued back to his own thoughts, sighing hopelessly. "I thought I would be... Losing face in front of him like that..."

_"He ordered you, Arthur, you know you couldn't have disobeyed."_

"I hate him." Arthur choked out, leaning his forehead against the door to their room for a moment, closing his eyes and reveling in the coolness of the wood that numbed his tired brain. "I hate him so much." And he tried to say it with as much conviction as possible, to make it sound believable.

And he'd thought Alfred would be different. He'd thought that with Alfred, he'd have the freedom he never would have gotten if he'd become his father's Queen. He was wrong. This felt like just the beginning. If Alfred was capable of ordering him around and breaking through his defences like that, then he was capable of so much more. Arthur refused to become anybody's quiet, submitted little servant, but when one is obliged to follow another's orders without fail... what was he supposed to do?

Arthur had thought Alfred would understand. He had been wrong. This was only a small part of him, the tip of the iceberg, and one day, Alfred would surely bring out the entirety of his potential and would rule over them, all of them, with an iron fist.

Over-dramatizing? Perhaps. But Arthur was too hurt to care. Silently, he opened the door to their chambers and went to the bathroom to start getting ready for bed, unwilling to admit that there was still a small spark of hope somewhere deep inside of him.

He spent the evening alone, reading, working, writing, anything but actually going to sleep. Time passed, but Arthur did not relent. He went from the bed, to the balcony, to the sofa, to the bed again, and listened to the clock ticking. Nothing changed. It was only when the moon rose high in the sky that he decided that it was enough waiting, and that Alfred would surely come soon. So he slipped into bed, making sure to leave a large space at his side for Alfred, and tried to get some sleep.

It didn't work.

Arthur tossed and turned, never comfortable enough to fall asleep. It was too hot one moment, and too cold the other. The bed was too hard in one position, too soft in another. The moonlight filtering in from the window was too intense on one side, and not intense enough on the other. And most of all, there was something missing.

Arthur was used to Alfred sometimes coming late, and did get sleep without him, but it was bothering him- the entire business with his King ordering him around to his whims. He felt guilty, and hurt, and he just couldn't sleep without having some form of comfort.

In the early morning hours, Arthur decided that it was enough. He was helping nobody by just lying there and worrying. The missing hours of sleep would show on his performance, or lack thereof, and he wasn't willing to lose his touch just yet.

My country before myself, he repeated in his mind as he got up, and, neglecting his slippers, immediately exited their room.

The first place he looked was the library, since Alfred seemed fond of sulking in there. When his search bore no results, he opted for wandering all the way down to the kitchens, too see if he was getting a midnight snack. He found nothing but surprised maids. The next place he went was the training grounds, but as soon as he opened the door outside, a strong gust of freezing wind hit him face-on, and he decided that Alfred could not possibly be out there.

On his way back up, he stopped by Alfred's study, knocking meekly a few times with no answer. When he noticed that there was no light shining from below the doorway, he sighed and headed back up.

He was running out of places to look. Where could he have been? Alfred always had a knack for finding the best hiding spots to sulk. This only made the job harder for Arthur, who just wanted to find him, drag him to bed, and sleep.

He reached the floor where the chambers and the library were, and started walking back towards their room, some part of him hoping Alfred had gotten back while he'd been out looking. He passed the Queen's quarters, and was just about to pass the King's quarters, when he stopped.

There was one place he hadn't looked yet. Dread filled him at the thought, but he decided to try nonetheless, hoping for null results again. Turning to the King's private quarters, he opened the door, and quietly slipped inside.

Surely enough, Alfred was there, sleeping soundly on the bed, the peaceful lines of his face proving that he'd been there for quite a few hours now. Arthur was sure that he would wake any time now, hearing the loud beating of his heart against his ribs.

So Alfred had decided to sleep in the King's quarters. Arthur let out a low, shaky chuckle and took a few steps towards him, hoping his knees wouldn't lock. The way Alfred looked so peaceful in his quarters told an entire story.

It wasn't customary for the King and Queen to sleep in their seperate quarters after being wed. Actually, it was close to being seen badly. Maybe Alfred hadn't known that, but if he did, that made it so much worse. That meant that Alfred wouldn't have minded being talked about badly if it meant he could sleep away from Arthur for one night.

Arthur felt a sinking feeling in his chest for the millionth time that day, and scolded himself in his mind for being so fragile. He hated Alfred, of course. What he did should have been of no concern to him.

Nonetheless, he found himself gently sitting down on Alfred's bed, gazing at his peaceful face sadly, adoring how the moonlight curved on his soft cheeks, and wishing things could have been better between him and the gorgeous man sleeping right next to him. His fingers slowly went up to his face, and he shakily brushed a strand of hair that was probably tickling his nose, from the looks of it. He then ran his hand down his cheek, traced his jaw, ran a fluttering touch across his bottom lip, trailed his fingers down his neck, and stopped at his square, well-built shoulders.

The realization of what he had been doing seemed to hit him then, and Arthur suddenly withdrew his hand. Touching a man in his sleep, his _King_, of all people, what was he thinking? Something was malfunctioning inside of him, something was wrong, and he hated feeling so uncomfortable in his own skin. Gritty. Awkward. Misplaced. Arthur was hurting in every sense of the term, and the man that was peacefully sleeping in front of him, unaware of his plight, seemed to be the cause of it.

He got up determinately and immediately took a few steps backwards, as if to repel the need to sit back down and watch him all night long. He told himself that this was unhealthy, and that it would only destroy him if it went on like this.

And then, something akin to absolute agony sparked through his heart, and Arthur decided that _it had already begun some time ago._ He was only hurting himself like this, and the best he could do was stop lying to himself.

He turned around and immediately went for the door before he could be tempted to look at Alfred again. He stopped at the handle, conflicted and lost, but left the room nonetheless, leaving Alfred to his sleep. As he walked back, Arthur listened to the silence of the night, and the cracking of his breaking heart.

He was being too fragile, too childish about it. How was he supposed to look and be strong if he let petty issues such as this one affect himself every time? Arthur felt horrible for being so weak. Where had his previous toughness gone? Alfred was making him go soft. He couldn't let that happen. He'd worked too hard for every single year of his twenty-one year old life to steel himself, put up a barrier around his heart, lock it and protect it from assault.

It had worked so far. Without his cold and detached demeanour, he wouldn't have survived for so long, under the pressure of everything in his life. He'd been happy, isolated in his cold little world, happy that nobody could or would try to understand him, happy that he was safe from danger and hurt because he wouldn't let anyone get too close.

Alfred had gotten too close, and this is what happened. Arthur hated himself for ever even thinking that Alfred would be different. In the end, it was in the human nature to want to hurt one another. Nothing good would come from opening his heart to anyone. He was better off alone, he'd always been.

Alfred had broken through the steel shield protecting his heart, and he needed it back so he could keep living the way he always had been. Maybe the best thing right now was to distract himself, let the memories of Alfred flow out for a moment, the time it took for his barriers to reconstruct themselves. With that thought in mind, he took the stairs down to his study, resolute to work until the only thing he could remember was the number of roads they had to reconstruct in the Sixth District.

_...OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO..._

Alfred was woken up by a harried maid that morning, and the first thing he noticed was that it was still dark outside (and that his face was tingling. How peculiar).

"What's wrong?" he asked, yawning and swinging his legs off the bed.

"There is an emergency, your Highness. You are required in the infirmary immediately!" she rushed.

"Okay then..." Alfred grabbed his glasses and sleepily looked around for clothes.

"There is no time!" the maid rushed to open the door, accentuating the desperation of the situation. "The Queen requested your presence urgently, you must go quickly, your Majesty!"

"I got it, I got it." Alfred muttered gruffly, stretching as he made his way out. If Arthur didn't have a good reason for waking him up so roughly he would be madder than usual at him.

Then again, it warmed his heart a little to know that Arthur had taken the time to call him for the so-called emergency meeting. Maybe his Queen didn't think of him as a child, after all. That's all he wanted, really. Recognition that he was capable of making choices, as well as making mistakes, and that neither of those made him a less person than he really was.

The maid quickly led him down two flights of stairs, which gave Alfred the time to wake up entirely before they made it to the infirmary. Once there, she opened the door for him, and bowed, motioning him inside. Alfred nodded at her and stepped in.

The white lights blinded him immediately, and he had to take a moment to adjust himself. Then, he took in the scene in front of him.

About half of the council members, plus the Jack, Ace, and Queen of Spades, along with a couple of servants, one of whom was Matthew, were crowded around what looked like a teenage boy, sitting on a chair, panting and struggling to breathe, tears running down his cheeks as he obviously panicked. Everybody was trying to speak at the same time, discussing, questioning, asking the boy things he couldn't have answered in his current state.

Alfred took the situation into his own hands.

"Step aside, he needs room to breathe." He declared, straightening his back and walking a few steps towards the boy.

Everybody noticed his no-less-than-imposing entrance. The crowd immediately hushed, and distanced itself lightly, making a small circle around the boy, who still hadn't snapped out of his panic. Alfred slowly walked towards the kid, and then knelt in front of the chair to be at his height. The boy was just a little younger than him. Alfred would have given him sixteen, or seventeen years old. His face was buried in his hands, and he was breathing quickly, sobbing, terrified and shaking.

"Can you hear me?" Alfred called softly, looking up at him. The boy didn't react. Alfred was undeterred. "Hello. My name is Alfred. I want to help you, okay?" he looked at him for a moment longer, and then gently set a hand over one of the boy's wrists.

The boy immediately cried out in panic, making everybody jump, but Alfred didn't let go. He didn't push, either, but he didn't relent.

"It's alright now. You're safe. Nothing will hurt you ever again, you hear me?" the King of Spades continued, gently grasping the boy's other wrist as well, and gently, very gently pulling them away from his face.

Bloodshot, red-rimmed, teary green eyes came into view, and Alfred pictured, for a moment, Arthur sitting there, crying and hysteric in that boy's stead. His heart leapt horribly in his chest.

"Good." Alfred smiled. "Look into my eyes now." He prompted, but the boy turned his gaze away. "Come on, look at me." He waited until the boy had turned his gaze to his, and nodded. "Good. Lean back into the chair, back straight." He waited until the boy had done as he was told. "Keep looking at me. Good. Now breathe. Breathe deep. Calm down, it's alright, you have my word. Breathe. Very good, keep breathing. Just like that. No, keep looking at me. Yes, just like that. See, you're doing it." He appraisingly looked at the teen until he was done calming down. His breathing now deep and relaxed, Alfred encased his hands in his own protectively.

Arthur, who had been watching from the sidelines, couldn't help but be entirely impressed by how maturely Alfred had dealt with the situation. Maybe he'd misjudged him, after all. Determined not to lose his own authority, though, he gently knelt in front of the boy as well, next to Alfred.

"What's your name?" he wasn't very good at sweet-talking like Alfred, but he could try.

The boy looked at him, sniffling a couple of times, visibly confused about everything, and then answered. "Kaelin."

"Kaelin. Wonderful name for such a wonderful lad." Arthur tested it on his tongue before getting down to business. "Kaelin, you mentioned something about an attack when you ran and collapsed in front of the gates. What's that all about?"

"The attack..." the boy's eyes dimmed again. "I... I live in Aotearoa, a small village very close to the border between Spades and Clubs. For a few days now, there has been an army of Clubs soldiers waiting on the other side, camping out, practicing their drills, but they never did anything..."

"Until tonight." Arthur guessed, biting his lip.

"Until tonight." The boy nodded, and sniffled again, his eyes filling with tears again.

"Take your time." Alfred hushed him, brushing some of his dirty, golden hair out of his face. The weird curl on the side of his head bobbed back into place, his entire appearance reminding Alfred a bit of a terrified sheep. "Tell us what happened, with every detail you can remember."

"It was really late last night when they crossed the border, and marched right into our village. Everybody was asleep, so nobody was ready when they set the first house on fire." His eyes were haunted as he told the tale. "Everybody was outside their houses by the time they reached the village square and dispersed. But they didn't fight." He shook his head, and Alfred felt trembles overcoming his body. "They killed."

"Deep breaths, you're alright, it's all over now." The King softly reassured him, but Kaelin had gone too far to be snapped out of his horrific recollection.

"They killed the men on sight, herded the women and children in the mayor's house, locked the doors and set fire to it." His voice was getting high and hysterical. "They spared no one, not the youngest infant, not the wisest elder. They killed them all, and I watched them die, and I couldn't do anything to help them!" tears were leaking down his face again, and he was shaking.

"Get him a glass of water and a handkerchief." Arthur looked up at Matthew, who promptly bowed and went deeper into the infirmary to get what he wanted.

"Everything was on fire, and there was blood, so much blood everywhere, on the ground, on the walls, on the dead people in the streets..." he let out a choked sob and clenched his eyes tightly. "My mother died in that church, and I couldn't save her. They stabbed my father, and I had to cover myself in his blood, and pretend to be dead when they made their rounds." He let out another sob and sniffled. Right on time, Matthew arrived with the handkerchief and the glass of water.

Alfred nodded to Matthew in thanks as he took both, and wiped the boy's tears with the handkerchief before handing him the glass of water. His grip was shaky, so he guided the glass to his lips so he wouldn't accidentally drop it.

After he'd given the glass back to Alfred, Kaelin gave out a short choke and finally opened his eyes again. The green of them was lighter than Arthur's, but not less beautiful. The haunted look did not suit the young man at all, Alfred decided.

"When they left to reform in the village square, I snuck out of the window and grabbed the neighbour's horse and rode it until I got here." He let out a shuddery sigh as he got to the end of his tale. "It took me a few hours, so I'm afraid of what they have had the time to do until now."

"We'll worry about that part, alright?" Alfred immediately assured him. "You were very brave tonight. We'll take care of you now, okay?" he smiled gently.

"Do you have any siblings, aunts, uncles, grandparents in Castle Town?" Arthur inquired.

"My older brother, Jack." The kid nodded. "He lives in the... Fifth or Sixth District, I think."

"Matthew will find him for you." Arthur patted his hand comfortingly. "Won't you, Matthew?"

"Yes Your Highness." Alfred's brother bowed his head lightly, and Alfred couldn't help but wince at the formality. He just wished they could drop the act, all of them. But they couldn't. He had other things to worry about, anyways.

"You're safe now, okay?" Alfred reminded him one last time.

"Okay." The boy mumbled in an unconvinced tone, and Arthur noticed how, for a moment, Alfred's eyes held a solemn expression in them. As if he could empathize with the boy. As if he knew what he was going through. For some reason, Arthur felt guilty, and wanted to fix it, somehow, but Alfred made it clear that they didn't have time to comfort any longer. They had a job to do.

"Alright." Alfred ruffled the boy's hair one last time before getting up, Arthur rising in sync with him. "Matthew, please find a nurse, tell her to take care of Kaelin. He can stay as long as is needed. Please work on finding his brother, too."

"Of course." Matthew nodded to him, and for a brief moment, the twins exchanged reassuring smiles between them. It was gone in a moment. "Come with me, Kaelin. Let's have you checked out." He invited softly, helping Kaelin stand up and leading him further into the infirmary.

Once they were both gone, silence fell on all of them. It was awkward, and pressured, and everybody was fidgeting. Everybody but Alfred, who stood there, arms crossed, letting the silence drag on for extra effect.

"So." He finally started in a tone that reminded Arthur of a child that had convinced his parents to give him what he wanted. Smug. Victorious. "Should we mobilize the army now, or would it still be considered an impractical move?"

Nobody answered for a moment, for everyone had the same guilty look in their eyes. Especially the council members, whose guilty looks were more poisonous than anything else.

"Good. In that case." Alfred turned to his Ace when he realized that he'd made his point. "Mathias, I want the army ready by today evening. Pick out your best soldiers and send them to the Clubs-Spades border where it's been breached. I want the Clubs army contained into one area until we can decide what to do." He then turned to the council members. "I need a plethora of decisions to discuss in case we have a declaration of war on our hands. So do what you do best. Discuss. I will attend and debate these decisions later. Yao, with me. You're gonna go on a roadtrip."

And then, he finished by turning to Arthur, whose heart leapt high in his throat at he finally realized how regal and beautiful and how much like a true King Alfred looked like.

"I told you so." Alfred merely commented, and the fact that he wasn't even joking made Arthur's knees go weak with guilt. "Come with me, we have things to arrange."

And with that, he spun on his heels and went for the door. The silence stood strong, only disrupted by the sound of Alfred's naked feet on the ground, and everyone moved only when Alfred opened the door.

Voices rose again as everybody bustled around, and Alfred led Arthur and Yao away from them, towards his study.

"Yao." He started. "I know this is very last-minute, and that I'm probably being ungrateful for all your services by doing this, but I want you to pack up and leave for Clubs' castle by tonight."

"Think nothing of it, aru. It would be an honour to go discuss terms of war or otherwise in Clubs."

"Wonderful, thank you." Alfred gave him a smile. "I'll arrange a carriage for you. Tie up everything you have, and if there's something that needs to be taken care of urgently, leave it to Arthur, please."

"Of course. I shall see you around lunch table to discuss my visit, aru?" the Jack inquired.

"Yes, we'll both be there with the Ace and the council." Alfred confirmed.

"Alright, off I go, aru." Yao gave him a small smirk before slinking back into the darkness of the early morning, to go prepare.

The Royal Couple, alone in the halls, kept the peaceful silence. Arthur didn't dare break it, unwilling to have Alfred get even madder at him. He didn't want a repeat of what happened in his study a day ago. Being ordered by _title_ to shut up wouldn't have done his mental stability any good.

But keeping it inside of him wasn't doing it any good, either. Arthur, for the first time in his life, needed to speak lest he explode. And between psychologically beaten or blown to pieces, he'd much rather have the first.

"I'm not trying to apologize for doubting you, but alright, I learned my lesson. We'll let you have a say next time." He blurted out so suddenly, it surprised even himself.

Alfred seemed to be fine, though. He turned to give him a sad smile instead.

"Thanks. But the damage is done now."

This didn't make Arthur's guilt diminish a single bit.

"I-I guess that's true, b-but-"

"It's okay, don't apologize." Alfred chuckled without any mirth in his voice, without the twinkle in his eyes.

"I wasn't apologizing, what made you think I was?" Arthur immediately went defensive, muscles tensed. He couldn't apologize. He wouldn't give in to reason, to Alfred, and admit he'd been wrong, he'd been weak.

"I know how it feels." Alfred quietly continued, ignoring Arthur's outburst. The subdued sadness in his voice cooled Arthur down, and he fidgeted a little awkwardly as he walked side-by-side with his husband. "The pain of losing a home. I know how horrible it feels, and I don't want anybody else to feel it, ever." He mumbled so quietly that his voice came out almost harmonious with the sounds of the early morning.

"You can't save everyone, Alfred." Arthur reminded him a bit reluctantly. He didn't want Alfred to live a fantasy, either, but...

"I'm a hero, Arthur." Alfred assured him, less sad and more determined with every step he took. "I may not be able to save every single person on this planet, but I will damn well make sure our country is safe from the horrors of war." His voice hadn't risen a single bit, but the intensity had. And Arthur shivered, because Alfred was slowly becoming a model King, someone that the entire nation would be willing to follow in battle.

Alfred's devotion, simply put, left him speechless.

The King chuckled at his wide-eyed expression and patted him on the shoulder to snap him out.

"This conflict..." he started again. "I think that it will bring the people and royalty so much closer to one another." He nodded, convinced.

Realization seemed to strike him at that moment, and Arthur was mesmerized by the half-amused, half-incredulous smile that grew on his lips. Alfred ruffled his hair and looked at the ground. Arthur loved how innocent he looked and hated how exhausted he looked. He did that a lot nowadays. Love and hate things about Alfred. This was just one of many.

"I get it now." Alfred's soft, almost-desperate voice snapped him out of his thoughts. "Maybe that's why I'm here. Maybe this is why the Clockworks made a commoner King."

_...OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO..._

"Are you sure you're going to be able to ride that horse?" Arthur asked, biting his lip as he watched Alfred mount the large black stallion.

"Don't worry, Mathias taught me how to ride weeks ago, I'll be fine. We won't even be traveling that fast, to keep up with the foot soldiers." Alfred assured him with a glorious grin.

"Well... Do you really have to go with them?" Arthur asked even more quietly, turning his eyes down to the ground.

"What, are you worried about little old me?" Alfred laughed, a sound that warmed Arthur's heart.

"I wasn't." He immediately bristled. "You could go die, for all I care, it's just that Spades doesn't need another change of monarch right now, that's all." He blushed.

"Keep telling yourself that, darling." Alfred rolled his eyes, amused, and held his hand out. "You know better than I that I gotta accompany the army. Gimme my sword, please?"

Arthur wordlessly handed him his sword and watched, entranced, as Alfred completely his warrior appearance by tying it to his back.

"Come on, even if there is a battle, I won't participate, promise." Alfred reassured him.

"I'm pretty sure you will, Mr I'm-a-hero-and-don't-think-logically." Arthur raised a brow, crossing his arms.

"Nah, I swear I'll be good." Alfred blew him a raspberry. "You know I'm just gonna be there to supervise the army and meet the King of Clubs from afar, right?"

"Still, I should be allowed to come with you, just in case." Arthur argued. "If anything happens, I'm the one who has to-"

"Oh, smart, and who's going to take care of our local issues while we're both gone, Mathias?" Alfred laughed, and the prospect of the Ace of Spades trying to figure out how to increase trade between Hearts and Spades was so amusing that Arthur even cracked a wry smile.

"I guess. Don't want our country falling into ruin, right?" the Queen let Alfred's chuckles melt away, and once they'd gone silent, they looked at each other, the noise of the assembling army only a background sound. For a moment, only they existed.

"Alright. I guess I better leave." Alfred finally snapped them out of their bubble, and the sounds came rushing back to their ears. Arthur didn't reply, so Alfred grabbed the reigns and turned his horse around, facing towards the army.

"Alfred." Arthur suddenly called, running back in front of him, looking up.

Their eyes locked, and for a moment, Alfred noted how absolutely _radiant _Arthur looked, bathed in warm light from the setting sun, green eyes twinkling with barely hidden worry, frame tense and posture insecure.

"Please stay safe." Arthur whispered almost inaudibly, and Alfred shook his head, willing himself to forget what he'd thought of Arthur (Arthur, beautiful? Hah, when chicken grew teeth... right?).

"Got'cha." he nodded in confirmation, throwing in a grin for the hell of it.

"It's not like I care, anyways. I just don't want to deal with the drama if people came and asked me how I would feel if you died, or if I was sad you'd gotten landed in the infirmary, which I wouldn't be, of course, and I don't feel like putting up with pity, either, so don't get yourself in trouble, okay?" he was rambling, and both of them knew it, so at some point, he just stopped and let it melt away again.

"Don't worry, Artie. I said I got'cha." Alfred winked. His eyes softened, though, when he saw that Arthur still looked unconvinced. "Listen, I said I understand. I'll be back, safe and sound, I promise to you, my Queen." He smiled softly, gently, and Arthur felt his heart leap in his chest, eyes wide. Alfred loved it when Arthur wore that innocently confused expression.

The sudden urge to lean down and kiss him goodbye overwhelmed him, but he controlled himself at the last moment and coughed awkwardly.

"Well then! Off I go! Wish me luck!" he laughed nervously before clicking his tongue. The horse reared for a moment, and then started into a trot. They stayed silent, looking at each other until Alfred turned to the front to steer his mount.

Arthur did not stop watching him as he rode towards the sunset. Back straight, clothes regal, outfitted and ready to defend the nation he lived for, Alfred looked so much more like a true King. He'd done many things for Arthur to conclude that, lately, and Arthur was proud of Alfred for having grown into such a fine young ruler.

Later on, he watched from the balcony as the small army left, with Alfred and a general leading in the front. The crowd in castle town was watching them leave, clapping and encouraging, some people crying, others hopeful. Arthur did nothing and said nothing, merely stared, hands crossed over one another in front of him, until the very last soldier had disappeared from his sight.

* * *

**Author's note**

**Fucking internet, fucking up and making me lose all my notes. I'm frustrated right now. Jihfilerger. I was going to sing you guys songs relevant to this chapter, but fuckit, I'm not in the mood to rewrite anything that's not essential. BLAME THE INTERNET.**

**Two issues here: Why Arthur is so upset over the use of his title, and why the sleeping arrangements upset him as well.**

**His title: Titles are used in the context of negociation, serious discussion, or any other professional matter. They're usually used to address one another in an overly formal, distant way. So when Alfred _ordered _Arthur by title to leave, it felt like he had broken every personal bond they had ever created. Like Arthur was just another stranger. There's also the fact that he was ordered around. You saw how Arthur's father was (albeit briefly) and you saw how unwilling Arthur was to become his Queen. Arthur thought that Alfred would understand, that Alfred would be different, so when Alfred ordered him, he created a divide between them, marking Alfred as superior to Arthur. Arthur immediately got upset, because in his head, any King that won't treat him as an equal is capable of controlling and using him to his whims. Arthur's just afraid of becoming voicless again, as he narrowly evaded with Alfred becoming King.**

**Sleeping arrangements: When two people get married, it's customary for them to share a lot of things, bedding being one of the many on that list. It's like two halves of a whole: once it's whole, there should technically be no going back. It's especially important for the King and Queen, in this case, to be united as a whole, since they're expected to rule the kingdom as one (remember the vows? Both of them swore to be 'the only one to sit on the Throne'. That's because they, as a married couple, count as two halves together, a whole, one soul united). So when Alfred decided to sleep away from Arthur, he not only questioned their relationships as a married couple (willing or not), but he also questioned their ability to rule the kingdom of Spades accordingly. This could create many questions and doubts about their abilities, and could cause a lot of insecurity amongst the people and the court. The 'magic' they're supposed to find is of unknown nature to them (but we know what this 'magic' is, right, readers? ;D), and they're both trying, since they're expected, as King and Queen, to find it, but by sleeping alone, Alfred is completely dismissing any attempt they've ever made to conciliate and build bonds, and this upsets Arthur very much. **

**Asides that, anyone who can guess what nation Kaelin is will get a cookie. Double-cookie if they can tell me what the village name is. Finding one of these answers will help you find the other, so... happy searching!**

**And yep. That's that. Please review? For the sake of USUK? ;w;**


	9. Brandeis

**Author's Notes**

**Unrelated note: The Olympic opening ceremony made me cry. So beautiful SO GORGEOUS. Rowan Atkinson was the best part. Go for gold Canada! :D**

**Yes, the little boy, Kaelin, was New Zealand! Nice guessing (or research, in some cases xD), everyone :D **

**Thank you for the reviews roll! Huge thanks to all your glorious comments and suggestions, Rainstorm-Mosspath, Quainttheatre, Hyper4Hetalia, bobness, HamburgerWithTea, WRITING IS TIRESOME YEAH, ZhangArronXun, mlpnkobnhjui, OmgPandi, MYJEN123, Canada Cowboy, BadApple123, Ember Hinote and kurichan729! I see quite a lot of new people this chapter, so hey, welcome to the story, all the new reviewers, and welcome back, all the old ones! :3**

**Also, if the timeskip last chapter wasn't noted, I intended it to be about 3-4 months (unspecified, since I only mentioned 'a few months'). You choose ^^**

**Alright, here we go for the next chapter! Please enjoy! This chapter... Enter the Diamonds and the Hearts! :D**

* * *

Arthur spent his days working, discussing with his council, reading in the library, and feeling entirely and utterly alone. With both Alfred and Yao gone, he had nobody to spend time with, nobody to talk to, nobody to share with. Mathias, being the untactful ass he always was, could only be counted on for training, and the occasional laugh resulting from one of his pranks. Everybody, though, had become a lot more serious than before, and the castle had a gloomy mood hovering over it.

The silence was queer, especially when he went to bed at night, slipping under the covers alone in a bed that was made for two. Needless to say, Arthur, despite never admitting it out loud, was dying for either Yao or Alfred to return soon.

It happened suddenly on a bright, beautiful morning. Arthur had just awakened and was now doing some paperwork in his study when someone knocked at his door.

"Permission granted." He called, not turning to meet the person that stepped in.

"Your Majesty, you have a letter addressed personally to you." The messenger stepped closer, and Arthur then turned around to accept his letter.

"Thank you. Who is it from?" he looked at the piece of paper curiously.

"The Jack of Spades, your Majesty, writing from the Clubs kingdom." The messenger bowed.

"Thank you. You may leave." Arthur turned back around, his heart leaping at the thought of one of Yao's letters. He dreaded the content, though. So absorbed, he didn't hear the messenger leave, and was left alone in the silence. He inspected the letter, turned it around in his hands, felt it under his touch, and then finally opened it.

Yao's neat, cursive letters immediately sprang in front of his eyes. The letter was brief, but detailed two very important things. First, that Yao would be returning soon from Clubs. And second of all, that he came bearing bad news, an official declaration of war.

Arthur swore his heart stopped for a moment there. He read over the line again and again, disbelieving, and finally, after he'd made absolutely sure that this wasn't just a nightmare, he sighed and set the paper aside.

He should have expected it, really, what with their actions at the border. They'd practically been in a war since the army started moving. Still, the shock just wouldn't ebb away. Determined to become the best Queen in the history of Spades, Arthur had let a war involve his kingdom under his reign. One part of him would never forgive himself, no matter how many years passed or what happened.

He sat still for quite a bit of time, mind whirring and working on overdrive, before he suddenly lurched over his desk and grabbed a clean parchment and an ink bottle. Drawing his favourite quill pen from his desk, he immediately dipped it in the ink and started scratching elegantly curved letters onto the parchment.

"... cordially invited to Spades... to discuss... the war with Clubs... and a possible... alliance." He nodded to himself as he wrote, and looked at his letter unsurely once he was done.

Would the explanation be enough to convince the two kingdoms? And on such short notice, too? He wasn't asking them the easiest thing in the world, after all. The two other kingdoms couldn't just miss their leaders out of the blue like that...

Then again, it WAS pretty urgent... Clubs was a sizeable threat, and it should technically be a priority on all the opposing kingdoms' lists... But perhaps they already had urgent matters to take care of, in the other kingdoms, and the war wouldn't be a top concern. Arthur's head hurt from overthinking, and for a moment, he found himself wishing that his father was still alive so he could take decisions on his own and just spare Arthur the internal debates. Being in charge was much rougher than it looked.

No, Arthur finally decided, he was doing the right thing. For both their kingdom, and their allies'.

With that in mind, he got up, folding his letter gently and heading out the door. His heart was beating fast on the entire way to the archive keeper's office, and he barely even heard himself asking the man to copy the text twice and send it to Diamonds and Hearts.

Something was missing inside of him, amidst all the chaos. And Arthur was just so confused and so lost, and had no idea what he could do to fill the gap in his soul.

Wanting to distract his thoughts, he decided to outwait the morning in his study.

_...OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO..._

Yao arrived about a day later, stepping inside Arthur's study first, only to find him hunched over his desk, working on the plans to accommodate the other royal couples that would be coming over.

"I see you are already hard at work, aru." The Jack commented, making Arthur jump right out of his skin.

"I didn't hear you come in." He turned around, breathing deep to calm his beating heart. "Welcome back."

"It's good to be back, aru." Yao confirmed, putting down the satchel he held in his hands and pulling out a document he handed to Arthur.

Arthur took it wordlessly and gazed at it sadly, wondering where it all went wrong and how he'd allowed such a thing to occur. He touched the rough parchment, as if making sure that the document in his hands was real, and then put it down, not even bothering to read the entirety of the document through.

"I can't believe we have a war on our hands." He murmured, turning back around and hunching over his desk again so that Yao would not see the hopelessness in his eyes.

"Aiyah, are you really admitting defeat so soon?" Yao shook his head, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Do not fret, Queen of Spades. A war was inevitable at this point, and you are not to blame, aru. You will be to blame, though, if you throw in the towel so soon and are unable to protect the nation you have sworn to keep alive."

"I guess that just the thought of having to send men to their deaths on a cold, bloody battlefield is enough to make me want to avoid this madness..." Arthur sighed, rubbing his forehead tiredly.

"But...?" Yao encouraged.

"But I can't let Clubs do as it pleases. I have sworn an oath to the gods and to our people that I would let no harm befall them and that I would protect them at the cost of my own life." His eyes flashed with determination that he'd mustered from one of the deepest corners of his mind. "I will not let Clubs destroy us, our fields, our children and our identity. _We_ won't let them."

"That is a swell attitude, Arthur." Yao nodded appraisingly. "You are a fine Queen, indubitably fit for ruling a country, aru."

"A Queen is nothing without a King." Arthur reminded him with a snicker, but then his voice died down again as a blank look passed over his eyes. "I wonder if Alfred is alright... And if he's coming home soon."

"Of course, aru, you do not give him enough credit." Yao rolled his eyes, amused, and patted Arthur's shoulder playfully before crossing his arms. "Although... Are you suggesting you miss him?"

"W-What? No!" Arthur spluttered, immediately whipping around to glare at him.

"Ah, but your cheeks are red, Arthur." Yao chuckled, watching Arthur turn his gaze away, embarrassed.

"I-I don't miss him. He's a git that doesn't know how to make proper decisions most of the time, and his table manners are appalling!" he threw in, just for the hell of it. Just to make it look like he didn't notice the smallest details about Alfred and didn't love them more than he should.

"But you are flustered, are you not?" the Jack raised an eyebrow, taunting.

"I-I... I am not..." Arthur replied half-heartedly, crossing his arms as well and pouting.

"Do not worry, I merely jest, aru." Yao rolled his eyes, amused. "I was teasing you."

"Good. Because, well... Let's make one thing clear." Arthur huffed and turned around to return to his work, painfully aware of the blush still adorning his cheeks like a plague. "I don't miss Alfred a single bit."

_...OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO..._

"Alfred's back?" Arthur dropped his quill and turned around immediately, eyes wide. Waiting for him, an amused smile gracing his features, Yao nodded.

"He has just arrived at the front gate, aru, accompanied by a few soldiers that have already left to return to the battlefield with the rest of the army." he reported.

"I'll go see him." Arthur immediately announced, getting up and darting past Yao, not even bothering to finish what work he'd started. Yao just rolled his eyes and sighed softly before following him out.

Arthur ran down the front, taking the steps three by three, and stopped when Alfred came into view, walking with a few servants buzzing around him and relieving him of his armour and weapons. Alfred seemed to be in pretty good condition, if not a bit dirtied and weary-looking. This didn't comfort Arthur, though, and he stayed frozen in place at the foot of the steps.

Alfred noticed him a moment later, and his grin brightened ten times more as he jogged up to meet him.

"Arthur!" he called, the grin on his face making Arthur's heart leap high in his throat.

"I see you've managed to get back in one piece." Arthur managed a bit shakily, immensely relieved at the veracity of his words.

"I'm not as reckless as you seem to think." Alfred laughed, switching over from one foot to the other and swinging his arms by his side as if he was internally debating doing something. His awkward hesitation did not escape Arthur, but he chose not to comment.

"I never know what to expect from you." Arthur rolled his eyes. "That'll be all, thank you." He waved to the servants that were still waiting a few steps behind them. The servants bowed and quickly scurried back into the castle, leaving Arthur and Alfred on the steps alone.

There was a moment of silence as both of them contemplated what to say. What could be said, really? _I missed you_? That would imply that both of them had been thinking of one another restlessly, and the thought of admitting to it made both of them uneasy with insecurity.

"Are you... hurt anywhere?" Arthur finally tried.

"No, no, not at all." Alfred immediately replied, and they fell into silence again. It lasted a moment, and then Alfred decided it was his turn. "Walk with me?"

Arthur simply nodded, because he didn't think he'd be able to muster up words. Feeling at a loss of words, too, Alfred just looped his arm around Arthur's and gently tugged him in the direction of the cobblestone path that would lead them deeper into the front gardens. The contact seemed to make them both a bit weak in the knees, though, so their hold quickly fell apart, and they were left strolling next to each other, conscious of the gap that existed between them, both literally and figuratively.

"So what did you think of the battlefield?" Arthur finally asked, desperate to fill the silence ringing in his ears.

"I don't know. It wasn't much of a battlefield. One thing's for sure, though. I don't like that Ivan Braginski guy. I mean, at all." He huffed, eyes narrowed, and bit his lip. "It's like... he's not doing it on purpose, but he's creeping everybody out, both his own troops and ours. He just..." he sighed and shrugged, at a loss. "I don't know. I don't like him, is all."

Arthur went back in his memories and remembered the last time he'd seen the King of Clubs, at a discussion table between Clubs and Spades over a decade ago. They'd both been very young at the time, Arthur, a princess that was barely able to read yet, and Ivan, a very young King that barely understood any of the issues regarding his country without the help of his council. But Arthur remembered having nightmares about the King of Clubs' smile, the one he constantly wore on his face and that seemed both innocent and murderously threatening at the same time.

He shivered.

"I know what you mean. Not a face to trust." He simply concluded, nodding.

"Yeah. And he didn't even have the courtesy to stay during my entire stay. He left a few days after I met with him, to return to the castle, and wasn't even there when the Clubs army attacked that Spades village. Talk about irresponsible." Alfred complained.

"He didn't have his army under control, for one, but he most probably went back to meet up with Yao. Remember, you sent him to discuss terms of war at Clubs castle?" Arthur reminded him.

"So... what's the verdict?" Alfred asked quietly, as if afraid of the answer they both already knew.

"Don't ask about things you already know of." Arthur grumbled, but seeing as Alfred wouldn't reply, sighed regretfully. "It's a war we've got on our hands."

"Not the most ideal situation for a newly appointed King and Queen, huh?" Alfred chuckled nervously, a ball clogging his throat up.

"Not exactly." Arthur agreed with a nervous chuckle of his own. "So..." he trailed off, looking for a new subject to jump to. His thoughts were only revolving around the war, though, so he couldn't help it when he asked "How'd the battle go?"

"It wasn't a battle, per se." Alfred shrugged. "More like... tension. Yeah, tension, and lots of it. Mostly fear and no actual conflict. I mean, there was a small scuffle with a couple of pointless casualties, no deaths, but asides that, it was mostly just the pressure of knowing that the army on the other side could attack you and decimate you before you even knew it." He trailed off.

"You were... scared?" the thought hurt a lot more than it should've. Just the thought of Alfred huddled up, unable to sleep, watching out for any noise and unwilling to trust anyone at all... it struck a chord within Arthur's heart.

"Not me, really." Alfred chuckled. "I think it was mostly just the atmosphere. There was paranoia running high, and night watch shifts were really strict, and the general atmosphere was just tense and... cold." He shrugged. "You can tell it's only just begun. We'll most likely have many more casualties soon." His gaze was downcast, his voice subdued, and Arthur hated how powerless he sounded.

"Hey, don't you dare look so helpless." Arthur snapped at him, blushing. "I've invited Hearts and Diamonds over for some discussions. With their help, we'll end the war before it even starts."

"I hope so." Alfred chuckled tiredly and ran a hand through his hair. "The last thing we need is for this war to drag on."

And Arthur couldn't help but agree with his King.

_...OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO..._

"Do we really have to have a ball?" Alfred asked as he toyed with his pencil instead of using it to mark things on the paper Arthur had in front of both of them.

"It's customary to finish everything with a ball, Alfred." The Queen rolled his eyes.

"Yeah but it's kinda useless, no? And it's a waste of money." Alfred huffed, still unconvinced.

"It's protocol, though." Arthur shrugged. "And you'll have to dance."

"Do we _reaaaallly _have to have a ball?" Alfred groaned, rubbing his forehead.

"Yes, we do. And if you don't know how to dance, I'll teach you." Arthur suggested, instantly going red at the prospect. "N-Not that I want to dance with you, or anything, it would just be unsightly for a King to lack dancing skills, is all. I don't want you to make a fool of our kingdom, that's all there is to it."

Alfred imagined them both pressed close, gazes locked and fingers interwoven, swaying to the rhythm, or maybe even Arthur laying his head down on Alfred's shoulder as they waltzed peacefully, their stances intimate and soothing...

"Nope!" Alfred chuckled uneasily, shrugging off all those thoughts he knew would never become reality. No use dwelling on them- Arthur and he totally hated each other, right? "I'd rather die than dance with you." And he managed to say it with such a straight face that it surprised even himself.

Arthur was on his feet before he could even congratulate himself for handling the situation so well.

"You, Alfred F Jones, are a royal ass, and I hope you fall off a cliff and die a horrible painful death and have your eyeballs eaten off your corpse by crows." He clenched his fists, face red in embarrassment, anger and hurt.

"Whoa." Alfred blinked, taken aback by the venom in Arthur's words. He hated it when Arthur got upset like that. Were those tears in his eyes, or was that just a trick of the light? "Your tits, Artie. Calm them." He poked at Arthur's chest with his finger, and Arthur flinched violently, glaring at a now very startled Alfred. "Seriously. Why so violent?" He raised a brow.

"Because you're being an untactful ass, and you're just talking without thinking about what you're saying, first!" Arthur ground out. If only Alfred knew how he'd hurt Arthur with those words. Would he even care? The stupid git would most probably just laugh and keep hurting him. Idiot.

Alfred merely raised a brow, but, recognizing he had no smart comebacks other than "no, you are!", he kept his mouth shut and glared instead.

"E-Excuse me?"

The Royal Couple immediately turned their glares to the source of the noise, a servant that was now shrinking under their glares.

"What is it?" Arthur asked rudely, his day most definitely having been ruined by Alfred's comment.

"I-I have a l-letter for the K-King and Q-Queen of Spades. F-From the Jack of H-Hearts." The servant announced, all but thrusting forward a silver platter on which rested a delicately folded envelope.

"Thank you." Arthur sighed and took the letter, posture relaxing slightly. "You may take your leave."

"Y-Yes Sir." The servant bowed nervously and scurried off. Arthur watched him go disinterestedly before sitting back down, sighing, and opening the envelope.

"What's it say?" Alfred inquired immediately, trying to lean forward to see.

"Give me some time to read." Arthur grumbled. "Basically, it's a confirmation that Hearts is attending." He read a bit longer. "They say they're worried about Clubs' extension desires." He finished the letter and folded it, a small smile gracing his face as he forgot everything for a moment. "They'll be here in a few days. We only need Diamonds' confirmation now. We'll be fine."

"Why do you sound like you're trying to convince yourself more than anything else?" Alfred raised a brow, and Arthur went red again. Of all the times to decide to read the atmosphere...

"I'm not. It's just that Francis will be coming, and, well... It's Francis." He winced.

"Francis?" Alfred blinked, trying to remember what he learned. "The King of Diamonds?"

"Yeah, him." Arthur huffed. "He's a pain in the ass, bigger than you, even."

"Oh, come on." Alfred laughed at the irritation in Arthur's expression. "You're overdoing it again. I'm sure he's not so bad."

_...OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO..._

Alfred wanted to swallow his words, and swallow them hard.

Diamonds arrived five days later. The first thing King Francis did as he stepped out was grab Arthur's butt and insult his eyebrows.

Two things that Alfred didn't appreciate, because there was one he liked to think he was the only one who could get away with, and the other, because, well... he wanted to be the only one who would, one day, be able to do it to Arthur.

It was at that moment that Alfred realized that he and Francis definitely weren't going to get along.

It didn't stop there. During the entire walk up to the main hall, Francis and Arthur wouldn't stop arguing, the former making perverted comments and passes at the latter, who vehemently tried to defend himself. Alfred felt cast out, as if he didn't even exist (as if it didn't even matter if he and Arthur were married).

"You know, those clothes make you look like a nun." Francis commented as he tugged at Arthur's high collar. "Are you afraid of showing some skin, _lapin_?"

"Don't touch me, you goddamn frog. I don't want to catch your idiocy, god forbid." Arthur grunted, pushing him away and taking a few steps forward faster. Francis quickly caught up to him and pinched his ass before weaving an arm around his waist. Arthur yelped and pushed him off, trembling and blushing madly. "I said 'don't touch me'! God, are you THAT dense? Do I have to get a translator to get it translated into your disgusting froggy language?"

"Ohonhon, Arthur, you amuse me so." Francis laughed, a sound that made Arthur want to punch him in the face even more than usual.

"Just... shut your mouth. I don't want to hear you talking." Arthur sighed as they stepped through the main doors that the servants had opened for them.

"Are you disappointed that I'm not doing anything else with my mouth, _chéri_?" Francis winked and blew Arthur a kiss, to which Arthur responded by walking faster and swearing loudly for the entire crowd of servants to hear.

Alfred didn't like it one bit. He was about to go tell Francis so when someone tapped him on the shoulder.

He turned around and came face to face with a blond girl with bright, curious eyes. She didn't look old at all, but she wore a pale cream coloured dress that was lined with gold and orange. Diamonds colours. Alfred immediately recognized her.

"Milady." He remembered his manners just in time to bend down and take her hand in a kiss. "I'm sorry, I did not see you."

"That's alright." She replied with a giggle, clutching her hand to her chest. "It always happens like this, every single time Francis comes to see Arthur." She threw the men a look and sighed. "Those two, always arguing like that..."

"You mean... they've been doing this for a while?" Alfred felt jealousy tying a knot in his stomach.

"Oh, ever since they met each other, really. How long ago was that?" she sighed thoughtfully. "Oh my... I can't quite recall what I've been told. A bit less than a decade ago... I remember it was at Arthur's twelfth birthday. Francis was sixteen and King, and he'd come to congratulate the princess of Spades." She chuckled. "At least, that's what I've been told. I only met Francis two years later and got married when I was seventeen." Which came as quite the shock to Alfred, who did some basic math and realized that the Queen of Diamonds was 5 years older than him, twenty-four, if he counted right.

How in hell did she manage looking so young?

Nevermind that... The issue still remained that Francis had been on close terms with Arthur since forever, and Alfred, who had somehow convinced himself that he was the only intimate friend Arthur ever had, was most definitely jealous of the way they pushed each other away, but seemed to be good friends nonetheless.

"Milady, please, follow me." Alfred put out his elbow, and the Queen of Diamonds took it. "Let me ask the servants to escort you to your chambers."

"Thank you, King of Spades. Francis and I are quite exhausted from our hastily-arranged trip here." She smiled at him, and he absently smiled back.

And then, he turned his eyes towards the bickering men again, glaring at them sharply.

"Excuse me." He caught a servant on his way. "Please escort Milady the Queen of Diamonds to the guest chambers. I will notify the King of Diamonds to follow."

"Yes Milord." The servant bowed, and gestured to the staircase. "This way, your Highness."

"Thank you." The Queen of Diamonds smiled at Alfred and left his side.

"Have a pleasant rest, Milady." Alfred called after her, and she nodded with a smile before leaving.

As soon as she was gone, Alfred's smile faded, and he stepped closer to Francis and Arthur, who were now too close for comfort, whispering threats to each other by the looks of it.

"Arthur." Alfred called him as he stepped in. Somewhat surprised by the interruption, Arthur backed off and frowned.

"What?" he snapped, folding his arms. Francis took the opportunity to sneak a hand on his ass again, and while Arthur yelped and slapped it away, Alfred felt something snap inside of him.

"Arthur, go wait for me in our room." He coldly ordered, effectively stopping Arthur in his tracks. His eyes went wide, confused, and he looked indecisive.

"What? Why?"

"Just do it." Alfred stood strong, as if challenging Arthur to disobey.

"I don't take orders from anyone." Arthur crossed his arms and glared at Alfred, who merely raised a brow and glared back. Francis watched the exchange with mild interest, chuckling to himself.

"Arthur."

"Listen, just stop thinking you have authority over me just because you're King!" Arthur snarled, fists clenched. Alfred was taken aback by his tone, but tried hard not to show it. His nonchalant attitude worked, because a moment later, Arthur gave up and turned around. "Fine!" and he stomped off without another word.

Both Alfred and Francis watched him go, and when he was finally gone, they turned to each other.

"Alright, we are alone. May I help you with something, King of Spades?" Francis asked playfully, and his laid-back attitude annoyed Alfred to no end.

"Listen, just stay away from Arthur, alright?" his voice was calm, contrarily to the raging fires inside of him, and Alfred was pleasantly surprised to see that he could indeed control himself.

Francis looked at him for a moment, pensive, and then slowly, a smirk bloomed across his face.

"Ooooh, I see how it is." He winked at him. "Lovers, eh? It seems like the magic has worked between you two."

"W-What?" Alfred blinked for a moment before registering his words and going a deep shade of red. "W-We're not... N-No, it's not like that, it's just that..." he couldn't even justify himself, because he didn't know how to explain himself without having to lie.

"That's alright, Alfred, I am sorry for coming onto your object of love." Francis apologized in what Alfred registered as a sarcastic tone.

"I said it's not like that!" he spluttered, embarrassed. "Arthur and I, we aren't... we aren't... We just aren't lovers, alright?" and he may or may not have said that last bit with bitterness in his tone.

"I see." Francis' eyes twinkled with mirth, and he looked like he knew something Alfred didn't. It annoyed him to no end, really. "Alright, well, if that is what you desire, then I shall control myself during my stay, King of Spades." He sighed as if it were a tragedy.

"N-No... Just Alfred." Alfred found himself insisting, finding it awkward to speak of such intimate things with such a distant address. If they were going to talk personal, they may as well get personal.

"Alright, then, Alfred. I will do my best, but you must promise to do so, too." Francis chuckled, making Alfred blush deeper and fumble for his words.

"I-I don't know w-what you... I don't s-see how..."

"Hush, it's alright. _L'amour_ can get confusing sometimes, I know. Now go, you have kept you _amant_ waiting in your bedroom long enough." There seemed to be hidden implications in that sentence, but Alfred was blushing way too much to bother finding them out. Instead, he nodded, and without even saying goodbye, he turned on his heel and ran off, eager to get away from the confusing character that the King of Diamonds had turned out to be. He wasn't even mad anymore, just very very confused.

He found himself rushing to their joint chambers and entering hastily. Arthur, who was sitting on the bed and waiting for him as asked, immediately looked up, and Alfred swore his eyes became that much brighter when he saw him. It was gone in a second.

"Well, I waited. What is it?" Arthur asked, not getting up from the bed.

"Uhh..." Alfred fumbled for his words, giving his fingers something to do by locking the door and turning around to walk for Arthur.

"Well? I was busy destroying the frog, don't tell me you interrupted me for no reason." Arthur looked mildly pissed and crossed his arms.

"No, I mean, yeah, I've got a reason, and all, that's not the point, but..." Alfred stumbled for a second, not knowing what to say. 'I'm extremely jealous of the way you and Francis are so touchy-feely and so informal with each other' sounded a bit desperate, even to his ears.

"But...?" Arthur made a move for him to continue. "Come off it, Alfred, what did you want to say to me that couldn't be said in the hallway?" the conversation was making him slightly uncomfortable, too, but he tried not to show it. Alfred didn't make him nervous, of course he didn't!

"I uhh..." Alfred blushed and bit his lip. "Don't know how to dance yet." He finally blurted out, and blushed as soon as he did.

"W-What?" Arthur's huge eyebrows shot up in surprise. "That's it?"

"I-I didn't want Francis to think I was a badly-educated King, is all." He laughed nervously.

"Since when have you cared?" Arthur still looked a bit dubious.

"Since now." Alfred chuckled again before rubbing the back of his neck. "So... teach me how to waltz?"

Arthur looked at him for a second, as if trying to figure out if Alfred's alibi was legitimate, but decided that either way, he didn't care. He'd get to dance with Alfred, indulge himself in a moment of fantasy that would never come true, and that was enough for him.

"Alright then. I'm surprised you still don't know." He nodded, his tongue alarmingly dry as he stood up and beckoned him over. "Come on, let's get this over with."

Alfred threw him a nervous glance before awkwardly getting closer.

"Okay, just... Put your hand here... Close to my shoulder." Arthur gently placed Alfred's hand, and then placed his own. "Good... Now clasp my hand in yours." They both hesitated a moment before taking one another's hand.

"Like this?" Alfred squeaked out, a noise that Arthur would have laughed at if he wasn't so flustered himself.

"Y-Yes, like that." He nodded and gulped down. "Now the steps... They're always in three movements, so count one-two-three out loud while learning, and in your head while dancing." He instructed. "Your right leg comes forward first, and mine will go back." They moved together, and something clicked inside of them.

It felt right.

"Good. Now... Foot back in its original place, and left foot to the back..." Arthur instructed, his gaze trailed on the floor because he could practically feel Alfred's eyes on him. It was slightly unnerving. "Good. Those are the basic steps. Now let's go for a turn to the left." He snapped Alfred back into attention.

Alfred looked down and watched Arthur move his feet with grace, barely even paying attention to the movements. Dancing really wasn't his thing, but Arthur was so good at it, he'd overlook his own incompetence. Dancing with Arthur made him feel good, great even. Peaceful and relaxed and just... so warm.

"Hey, pay attention, you're the one who asked me to teach you how to dance!" Arthur called him back out of his reverie again, and Alfred was once again captivated by how bright his eyes were. Enchanting. Ethereal.

"Yeah yeah, I'm paying attention." Okay, so maybe he was merely paying attention to Arthur and not his teachings, but that was still something, right?

"Alright, so just... Turn. Just like that." Arthur nodded as they slowly spun around. "Alright, now we return to the basic steps... Go slower." He instructed. "And now, you'll have to spin me, so just move to the side with me..." Arthur moved to the left, and Alfred followed clumsily. "Remember, three times. So... one-two-three. One-two-three. And now spin me around, and when you catch me again, move to the side."

Alfred nodded, and as they moved side-to-side twice, he slowly slipped his hand out of Arthur's and held it up. With practiced grace, Arthur spun in place in three times, and Alfred felt his breath fly away. Arthur felt weightless, his fingers barely touching Alfred's, and the absence of touch made him realize how much he loved having Arthur's hand in his and leading him around.

He almost missed his cue to catch Arthur again, but somehow managed, at the last moment, to extend his arms and put his hand behind Arthur's shoulder. His hand immediately caught Arthur's, and when they both stopped for a moment, red in the face, Alfred realized he'd gotten way too close to him.

But they couldn't pull away. Arthur was breathing fast, and some part of Alfred recognized that he couldn't have exerted himself that much, that there was another reason to his rapid breathing, but he was too mesmerized by Arthur's proximity to rationalize anything.

"Alright then." Arthur was the first to break away, letting go of Alfred and fidgeting nervously. "That wasn't bad. You'll be fine with some practice." He seemed hesitant to offer again, though.

"Practice now?" Alfred suggested in his stead, trying to look cool. "I mean, if the ball is a few days away, and we're gonna be discussing stuff with the two other nations for the rest of the time, we won't have much time left to ourselves, right?"

"R-Right, exactly." Arthur nodded, the blush never having left his face for even a moment. "Alright. Come here, let's try again."

Alfred complied without a single protest.

_...OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO..._

Once all the Kings and Queens were seated around the negotiation table, silence fell. Arthur and Alfred stood up, though, as convened, Arthur did most of the talking while Alfred stood and tried not to look awkward.

"Welcome to the discussion table, gentlemen, my lady." Arthur inclined his head towards Queen Lili, who smiled and bowed her head back. "Our main topic here today is the declaration of war that Clubs has made on Spades, and a possible alliance that Spades would like to establish with both Diamonds and Hearts under these circumstances."

"We have already agreed, my Queen, our council, and I, that an alliance would be beneficiary to both our countries." King Ludwig of Hearts immediately commented. "We've had our guard up against Clubs for a while now, especially ever since they expressed their desire for expansion."

"Spades would certainly agree to a military alliance with Hearts." Arthur nodded, sitting down and folding his hands in his lap. Alfred merely watched him, not daring to say anything to mess things up. Hearts having an alliance with Spades was a good thing, right? He would just stand by and observe for the moment.

"Pardon me, but I suggest also having an economic alliance with Spades." Queen Kiku of Hearts spoke up, his gentle voice flowing across the table. "During war, trade between our countries would also be most beneficial."

"That sounds alright. I will have it taken up with my council." Arthur nodded, and turned to Alfred. "What say you, my King?"

Surprised at being addressed so formally, Alfred froze for a moment, looking around like a headless chicken, before Arthur pinched his thigh under the table, and he snapped out of it.

"Y-Yeah. The council. What he said." He nodded, pointing towards Arthur. The latter merely sighed and rubbed his forehead.

"Alright. Diamonds, what is your opinion on the matter?" Arthur turned to Francis, who only looked back with remorse on his face.

"With my entire nation backing up my decision, I must say no to this war." He shook his head gravely. "We do not need a conflict right now as we are finally prospering."

"Yes, and Diamonds is on quite good terms with Clubs." Queen Lili added. "Both on personal and national levels. We do not wish to provoke them as they have no provoked us."

"But you do know that to get to Hearts from Spades, Clubs will have to march through Diamonds, right?" Arthur reminded her pointedly. "No offense intended, Milady, but you cannot expect their troops to simply pass by, and not have any repercussions. Especially with the tensions running so high between the three other nations, Diamonds' populace will surely bristle if Clubs got involved with them, too. Perhaps not any military action, but militia and population will most surely contest and react to Clubs."

"The population will do no such thing if they are informed of the situation. I would much rather invest in messengers delivering information to all the villages than get my country in a war." Francis shook his head, frowning.

"But your younger population is suffering from lack of jobs, yes?" the Queen of Hearts asked, seemingly already knowing the answer. "The industry of war would provide an answer to that problem."

"Our younger population can find other jobs than going to die on the battlefield, for a war they don't believe in. We are creating new jobs as we speak. Our economy is getting better. We do not need a war to accelerate the process." The King of Diamonds protested again.

"Spades is willing to supply all three of the allied armies with sustenance. Agriculture is what Spades does best, and we will easily be able to provide the army with rations." Arthur insisted. "You already have a fully trained army, do you not? Now is the time to get your men on the battlefield to protect their nation, without having to worry about rations."

"And Hearts' technology industry is booming. We could easily mass-produce the weapons our alliance needs." King Ludwig nodded, obviously very interested with the idea of a war.

"Our demography has just gotten a boom, which is exactly what we need. I will not send our young men and women on the battlefield to die when they could be back home, nursing a child and working for bread." Francis shook his head again, stubborn in his protests. Next to him, Lili looked a bit unsure, but seemed to support her husband's decisions fully.

"You must give it some thought, at least. It's a present-day reality that Clubs will not stop at Spades." Arthur argued.

"I will give it some thought." Francis answered vaguely, which ticked Arthur off. They didn't have time. Clubs was right outside, knocking on their door, demanding entry, and they _needed _the help from Hearts and Diamonds to repel the strongest out of the four of them.

"Wonderful." He huffed, sweet sarcasm lacing his tone. "Then get started on that thinking of yours. It would be helpful if you made a decision before Clubs took over the entire world."

_...OOOOOOOOOOOOOO..._

They kept going until night fell. The discussion was alive, the debate, heated, and neither of the three parties seemed to want to stop. Francis still systematically refused to lead Diamonds into a war, Ludwig pushed for an offensive counter-attack over a defensive war, and Arthur... well, Arthur just wanted to see his nation out alive and well from the entire ordeal.

He was also worried about Alfred's silence, a fact that he mentioned to him as they walked up to their room, retiring, like the other parties, for the night.

"Are you ill?" was the first thing that came to his mind.

"Huh?" Alfred snapped out of his tired haze and chuckled sheepishly. "Nah, I'm not sick. Just tired."

"But you've looked lost for the major part of the day..." Arthur noted with a disbelieving look.

"Lost? Nah, just concentrated." Alfred laughed.

"You have a weird way of looking concentrated." Arthur raised a brow.

"I was listening to the discussion. Seeing if I could learn a few things. You guys sure did speak fast and precise, and with such fancy terms." Alfred chuckled again, amused.

"Well, you'll have to learn the formal lingo one day. Next time, I expect you to put in your thoughts as well. You're King, after all. And besides, you were the one who asked to be given more importance in discussions." His Queen reminded him.

"I know, I know, but..." Alfred's grin turned strained. "You guys just looked so professional, and... I realized I couldn't say anything to add to your conversation. You were bringing up all the points, so... I guess I just sat and listened. Learned. Observed you interacting so I can one day become as great as you."

"You're a fine King already, Alfred. There is always room for improvement, though, and I believe in you to be able to do it." Arthur nodded appraisingly, a soft smile illuminating his features, and making Alfred's heart stop for a second.

"Thanks, Arthur. Couldn't ask for a better Queen than you." Alfred laughed. "Now come on, I'm tired. Let's get to bed." Without even thinking, he slipped his hand into Arthur's and pulled him forward.

"H-Hey! Don't pull!" Arthur protested, stumbling forward as Alfred laughed and dragged him towards their room.

He didn't let go, though.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

**More srs bsns. And more USUK. What else could you ask for? :'D (Well, if you have anything to ask for... suggestions can always be sent to me via review or PM, and I'll do my best to incorporate them in the story!)**

**And now Hearts and Diamonds have come into the picture (FRANCIS. OH U.) and everything's going to go to hell in a handbasket. Woot! Also, waltzing. I had to learn it for my prom. I don't even know if I described that right. DERP.**

**Did you guys see what I did with the confrontation on the battlefield? I'm sure you guys caught the reference... I mean, Russia and America... Tension... Of course I alluded to the Cold War. Making subtle historic references ftw (:**

**In any case, not many notes here, relatively simple chapter... Next chapter... Ohhh, I can hardy wait X) I'm going to be gone to a con this weekend, so the chapter should be out sometime next week.**

**Fun fact: Did you know that frequent reviewers will be able to tell when a new update is coming? I have a review reply-posting pattern that you can catch pretty quickly after the first few times you review ;)**

**Which is why you should review. (I'm such a whore. Or a really good advertiser. I should do an Old Spice commercial. Eff yeah.) SO PLEASE REVIEW BECAUSE YOU LOVE ME AND I LOVE YOU! :3**


	10. Phthalo

**Author's Notes**

**Important note for everybody… UtBoS is going to be slightly delayed when it comes to updates because I'd written chapter 11 and part of 12, and then… well, my file got corrupted and I lost all my writing. And I really don't know if I'll ever be able to write 8000 words from memory again. Give me some time, and I will write again. Until then, I'm just going to be here crying, if you need me. **

**Here we go for chapter 10… Shit's about to go down! I think this is the chapter that a lot of you were waiting for, as you mentioned in your gorgeous reviews for which I will thank you in the following moments. Thank you for the very inspiring reviews, HamburgerWithTea, Rainstorm-Mosspath, Canada Cowboy, bobness, a fan, kurichan729, Miss Fr34k, IchigoMelon, MYJEN123, SamuraiSal1, OmgPandi, Asshu-chan, Ember Hinote and ZhangArronXun!**

**Now for this chapter, there are warnings, BUT! The warnings might come off as spoilers. So if you want, go ahead and read the warnings that will follow. If not, skip to the story, but know that there are T15+ warnings here!**

**As for the warnings, try to read through the block of text. I know how frustrating it is to have your eye catch a word you didn't want to read, so I mashed everything together :'D**

**Warningsincludequiteafewthin gsincludingswearingalcoholdu bconandimplicitnondescriptiv ecopulationpracticesthankyou verymuch.**

**ASIDES THAT, PLEASE ENJOY CHAPTER 10! **

* * *

_"Attention all. Following the negotiations that have been ongoing for the past few days, a decision has been reached by the nations of Spades, Diamonds and Hearts. Spades, now at war with Clubs, can count amongst its allies the kingdom of Hearts, who is willing to fight Clubs directly at Spades' side. A treaty has been signed to create military and economic bonds between the two nations. Diamonds has decided to remain neutral, but has signed a treaty to increase trade between them and the allied nations. To celebrate the reaching of a decision, a ball has been organized, in the honour of the visiting Nations. All three present royal couples shall be present to celebrate..."_

"Arthur, are you ready yet?" Alfred called as he knocked on the bathroom door for what seemed like the hundredth time.

"I can never get over how stuffy I look at every single one of these damn horse and pony show events." Arthur huffed from the inside.

"Just come out already, we'll be late!" Alfred rolled his eyes. "I'm sure you look great, so come on already!"

"Don't rush me!" Arthur growled through the door, but after a moment, the lock on the handle clicked. Alfred stepped back to give Arthur room to step out, and watched him as he came out.

He forgot to breathe for a moment.

The garb was simple, yet so elegant on Arthur. Brown pants, blue vest, purple long-sleeved coat with twin tails, a white cravat tied around his neck... And the quirky little purple hat on his head that Alfred adored (never mind the fact that he ALWAYS wondered how it even held!).

Arthur looked breathtaking.

"Hello?" Arthur snapped his fingers in front of Alfred's face, and the latter promptly jumped back into reality.

"Oh, uhh, Arthur..." he chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "You look, uhmmm..." Stunning? Unreal? Gorgeous? Ethereal? "Uhhmmm..."

"What?" Arthur snapped, going red in the face in embarrassment and crossing his arms over his chest. What was Alfred trying to say? He didn't look THAT bad, did he?

"N-Nothing, it's just that..." he was just too splendid for Alfred to formulate the proper words for it. Even though the outfit was by far the simplest formal wear he'd ever seen Arthur wear, Arthur's was the most beautiful in his eyes at that moment. In retrospect, he should have realized that his feelings had grown over time, and it wasn't Arthur's clothes he'd liked more and more- it was Arthur himself.

"Okay, fine, I get it!" Arthur huffed in frustration, turning around. "You don't have to look at me like that!" he fumbled nervously with the bathroom door handle, frustrated tears pricking his eyes at the thought of Alfred trying to sugar-coat what to say about his outfit. He looked ridiculous, was what he was trying to say. It's the hat, he convinced himself, it had got to be the hat.

"N-No, wait, Arthur! It's not like that!" Alfred took a step forward, but it was too late. Arthur had already stepped inside the bathroom again and was closing the door. Without even thinking, Alfred stuck his foot in the way, and yelped when the door collided. "FUCK!" he swore, gritting his teeth and gasping in pain.

"You dumbass, what did you do that for?" Arthur cried out as he opened the door, irritation fleeing him for a moment, replaced by worry.

"Don't run, Arthur..." Alfred winced as he tried putting weight on his foot.

"I wasn't... running... I was going to get changed into something more suitable." Arthur looked away, hugging himself.

"No, don't..." Alfred gasped in pain, and took a tinkering step forward, gently putting his hands on Arthur's shoulders and drawing the smaller man's gaze up to meet his.

"W-What?" Arthur felt his mouth go dry. He could feel his cheeks heating up.

"I-I meant to say..." Alfred turned his gaze away, embarrassed. "You look... really nice, Arthur." And cue the simultaneous blushing.

"O-Oh." Arthur dumbly replied after a moment, scratching his cheek, not knowing what to say. "Thanks, I guess."

"You're... welcome?" somehow, Alfred felt like he was making things more awkward than necessary, and quickly jumped to the occasion when there was a knock at the door.

"Your Majesties, the ballroom is ready to have you!" Matthew's voice came from the other side.

"Ah, we'll be right there, Mattie!" Alfred called back without bothering with formalities, and hesitantly held his arm out for Arthur to take. "Shall we?"

And Arthur felt like an idiot for staring as long as he did, but in his defence, Alfred knew how to clean up. _Really _well, at that, too.

"Alright." He finally nodded mechanically, looking at the offered arm before gently slipping his hand around it. "Let's go."

"Awesome." Alfred grinned and gently led him towards the door. Arthur let himself be led, and instead enjoyed their peaceful moment together. They walked out in silence, enjoying the calm before the storm that was sure to follow.

As they'd both guessed, people were waiting to usher them to the ballroom at the bottom of the steps, and they didn't have time to speak to each other before they were all but pushed into the ballroom.

The people in the room broke out into applause as soon as they stepped in. Alfred stumbled at first, but kept a tense posture. Arthur merely led him through the crowd, towards the circle opened in the middle. Behind them, the royal couples of Diamonds and Hearts followed them into the circle. As all six of them reached it, they all turned to their respective partners and took their positions.

Arthur looked at Alfred encouragingly, and Alfred nodded imperceptibly, gulping down and slipping his hand into Arthur's. Arthur gently set his hand on Alfred's shoulder, and nodded back. There was a small silence where they merely stood and gazed at each other, and then, the musicians started.

One-two-three, one-two-three, Alfred reminded himself as he found his cue and started moving. He was aware of how stiff he looked compared to Arthur, who was gliding through the dance with practiced ease.

"Calm down, Alfred." Arthur hissed as they turned around in sync with the other two couples. "You're going to stand out a lot more if you don't relax."

"I'm gonna mess up." Alfred hissed. "I'm gonna mess up, I'm gonna mess up, I'm gonna mess- oh god, spin!" he whispered, edging on hysteria, clumsily spinning Arthur around before catching him again.

"God damn it, Alfred, just take a deep breath before you hyperventilate!" Arthur growled back to him. "It'll be fine, you'll be fine, okay? Just... deep breaths... Fluid movements... We've practiced this before. Just forget everyone else is here. Just pretend it's only you and me again." He gently rubbed Alfred's shoulder with his hand, hoping to comfort him with the soothing motion.

"Right. We're all alone together again." Alfred closed his eyes for a second and nodded. "Okay. Just you and me. Got it." He let out a shaky breath, and took the lead with renewed vigour.

Arthur just smiled and nodded to him, falling back into step easily. For a moment there, nothing else did matter. It was just them, and they were back in their bedroom, just practicing, scolding each other on wrong moves and misplaced feet, looking at each other and wordlessly swaying to the melody of violins and their mingling breaths, close -so close-

The song ended before they even knew it, and they were forced back into reality to the sound of applause. Alfred took a second to register his position before stepping back and taking Arthur's hand, kissing it gently, as custom desired. He wondered, though, if Arthur had realized that he'd lingered a few seconds longer than necessary.

He didn't seem to, because his flustered expression hadn't changed when Alfred straightened, and led him towards the buffet to grab a bite. That's where they lost each other from sight for just a moment, and the hawks attacked.

The ladies and lords of the court swarmed them both, and the next time they saw each other was when their gazes found one another from way across the room. Alfred barely had time to wonder how in _hell _he'd gotten so far in such a short lapse of time, before he was swept away again.

Arthur had warned him about balls like this, and how he would be expected to dance and chat with people other than him. Alfred still didn't expect the flow of young women in extravagant, gorgeous gowns, crowding around him and chattering endlessly, no matter how much he'd tried mentally preparing himself.

"Your Majesty, is it true that you are going to reform the health system in Spades?" one of them asked, looking up at Alfred with wide, curious eyes.

"Your Highness, please, tell us if there's really a plan to reconstruct the back gardens of the palace." Another asked, fanning herself gracefully with a red fan that matched her dress.

"Oh, Sire, your clothes are so neatly tailored to fit you. Who is your tailor?" another woman asked, gently running a hand on Alfred's upper arm and drawing shivers from him.

Alfred just stood there, motionless, not knowing how to respond to any of those girls, and wrung his hands nervously. He didn't trust his voice to stay strong if he decided to answer to the girls all around him. Why did they insist on being so close? And why did they insist on touching him, on talking so loud, on asking him things he didn't know how to answer to- 'Your Majesty this', 'Your Highness that', Alfred was suffocating, it was getting just too hot inside, and he just wanted to fall back, sit in a corner and wait for the sun to come up again-

"Ladies, ladies, please, let us all give his Majesty some room." A new voice suddenly broke through the crowd, and the voices died down, replaced by murmurs and furtive glances. The sea of women parted, most of them regarding the newcomer with a mix of resentment and respect, as the woman on the other wide of the path looked down at Alfred.

Alfred gulped down as their equally blue gazes locked.

"Your Highness, King Alfred of Spades." She greeted, lifting one side of her elegantly arranged baby blue dress to walk forward a few steps. The ladies watched her pass by, whispering, but she paid them no heed. She seemed to be focused only on Alfred, and the deer-in-front-of-headlights look he sported.

She grinned and stopped in front of him, extending her hand and fanning herself with the other.

Alfred looked at her hand dumbly for a second, before remembering his manners and quickly, mechanically kissing her hand before backing off.

"Milady-" he started, before she cut him off.

"Mademoiselle Mariella, from the High Court of the Kingdom of Diamonds." Her eyes flashed as she presented herself. "I came here as a part of the entourage of the King and Queen of Diamonds, dying to meet the infamous King of Spades." She raised a brow, as if challenging him. Alfred just stood frozen, entirely uncomfortable. He briefly wondered if all people from the kingdom of Diamonds were this high-class.

"W-Well, that's me!" Alfred nervously chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

Mariella's eyebrows immediately switched positions, and a look of disinterest flittered across her face. It was gone in a moment, though.

"Yes, I could tell, really." She drawled, as if exposing the obvious. Alfred noticed the drawl and fidgeted, wondering what he could do to avoid making a complete fool of himself.

"Ummm... Great then, nice to meet you, and all." He laughed again, his laughs dying down into awkward coughs as the lady didn't reply. Once he was done, though, she extended her hand.

"Would you care to dance, your Majesty?" she asked in a smooth, calculated voice.

Alfred looked at her hand dubitatively for a second, and looked around himself. A hundred eyes were gazing back, observing him, judging his movements and reactions, ears straining to listen to what he said, every break he took, every move he made...

Alfred just wanted to get out.

"Yes, let's dance." He quickly agreed, taking her by the wrist and dragging her out of the tight circle of girls. She squeaked in surprise, but soon caught up with his steps, following him onto the dance floor and landing gracefully in his arms when they got into position to waltz.

"What a sudden exit, your Majesty." She chuckled huskily as she got closer and tightly gripped his shoulder and hand.

"I just... had to get some air." Alfred replied, somewhat uncomfortable still as he tried to wiggle his fingers free, to no avail. Her grip was one of iron.

"I'm so honoured to have been chosen for this dance, your Highness." Mariella replied instead, letting herself be twirled before landing in his arms again. Alfred awkwardly noticed that she seemed to be getting closer and closer with every move.

"Yeah, uhh... great." Alfred merely replied, quickly attempting to put some space in between them and breathing deep, looking around. Arthur. He had to find Arthur. Arthur would be able to save him, right?

"If I may, your Grace, you look absolutely stunning tonight." She spoke after a bit, gazing appreciatively at his locks of golden hair, his smooth clothes, his strong-looking arms and the glittering of those deep sea blue eyes.

"Oh, uhh... let me return the compliment, Lady Mariella." Alfred stumbled a bit, recovering quickly, a move that the woman used as a pretext to push herself closer, until her chest was brushing Alfred's.

"Thank you." She merely whispered, and Alfred's mind went blank at the proximity for a second. Too close. Way too close. He could smell candy on her breath. The perfume of roses sprayed on her neck. The fruity scent of her long, neatly curled blonde hair swaying against her back as she danced. The scent in the air was nauseating. Alfred hated it. He just wanted out.

"Your hair, I mean, it's so... uhh... blonde." He attempted awkwardly, drawing another unimpressed raise of the eyebrows from the woman. "I mean... Your eyes! Your eyes are like the sea, and the sky!" he tried again.

"How eloquent, your Majesty." Her tone held a bit of disdain, but she covered it up well.

"And... you dance very well!" Alfred kept going, afraid he'd faint if he had nothing to keep his mind of the fact that this girl was invading his personal bubble and that there was nothing he could do to stop it.

"Thank you. I practice a lot. I practice a lot for everything I do very well." She winked, and Alfred briefly wondered if there was something he hadn't quite gotten. It was still way too hot, though.

"I see..." he stuttered, diverting his gaze from the woman's, whose clear stare was fixed on his eyes. "So... What else do you do very well?" he tried.

"I paint... I play the violin... Amongst others, that is." She explained, going even lower with her voice.

"Amongst others...?" Alfred knew he would dread asking, judging from the mischievous glint in the noble's eyes.

"Yes." She merely answered, before suddenly switching and taking the lead. Alfred, surprised, stumbled and stepped on her feet in an attempt to take control again, but she stood fast, dragging him further and further away from the other dancers. "You look a bit hot. Shall we take a breather outside?"

"Y-Yeah, sure." Alfred replied, dizzy and confused as he finally gave up and let the woman lead him outside by the hand.

As he's guessed, the cold outside air on the large balcony was refreshing enough to clear his head. He let go of her hand and leaned against the balcony railing, closing his eyes and breathing deep, noticing how he was slightly trembling still.

"It's a beautiful night, yes, Your Majesty?" Mariella asked as she stepped closer to his side, leaning against the balcony as well.

"Yeah, the moon and stars and stuff." Alfred dismissively replied, running a hand through his hair wearily.

"It is a fitting scene for a private conversation, or a private meeting between two people." She drummed her fingers on the metal railing, and then looked at Alfred, who refused to meet her gaze.

"I suppose." He shrugged, wondering is Arthur would appreciate being brought here one day. He shook the idea off, though. Arthur? Alone with Alfred? The world would surely blow up, right?

"I've been here before. I come here every time I visit your lovely castle of Spades." Mariella scooted closer, until her arm was touching Alfred's. He tried to move further, but found himself limited by the wall.

"Didn't know of this place. It's my first time..." he replied, not watching her as she smiled, makeup glittering on her eyelids and cheeks.

"Oh, but everyone should know about this corner. Nobody comes on this balcony, not last time I checked." She got up and walked a couple of steps until she was at Alfred's level.

Alfred turned to her, and he only noticed how close they were standing once they were face to face. The discomfort returned, but Alfred could not voice it for anything in the world.

"Allow me, your Majesty, to show you firsthand..." Mariella leaned into Alfred's ear and whispered sensually, making shivers rack Alfred's paralyzed body. "... how _enjoyable _this small paradise can be." She finished with a breathy chuckle that left goosebumps across Alfred's skin, and then, a second later, attacked his neck with her teeth.

Alfred cried out softly as something new and unknown coursed within him. It felt weird, misplaced, good, but inappropriate for the current situation. Mariella kept biting his neck gently, moving the cloth of his uniform down to trail her fingers down his bare skin, and Alfred fidgeted in discomfort, frozen.

Honestly, he didn't even know if he wanted what was happening or not. It felt good, especially when she pressed herself close to him, but it felt weird, as if she just didn't fit. He tried to find his voice to tell her off, but he found it locked in his throat.

Panic rose within him as he tried to push her off. She moved swiftly, though, slipping her leg between his, and Alfred lost it again. His voice, his movements, all of it. And he hated being so powerless, he hated not having the strength to even push a single woman away. He hated the fact that his body betrayed his mind, and that the current situation actually posed a dilemma in his mind. It shouldn't have. She wasn't the one. Alfred shouldn't have gotten a second thought about pushing her away.

But he did. And it was enough.

The doors to the balcony swung open, and Alfred was treated to the rare sight of shock imprinted on Arthur's face as he took in what he was seeing.

"A-Alf...red..." he stuttered, as if the words had gotten lost in his throat.

"Arthur!" Alfred immediately cried out, panicked and embarrassed. Everything came back to him. His voice, as he called out the name of the only person he wanted to please, and his movement came back as he finally found the strength to surpass his physical limitations and gently push Lady Mariella off of him.

"Oh, I'm sorry." The shock was gone a second after it came, and Arthur was back to being his usual cold self. After having spent months with him, though, Alfred could see it- he could see the hidden anguish and regret and utter desperation in Arthur's eyes.

He'd fucked up.

"I didn't mean to interrupt you two." He gritted out, sounding like he wanted to do nothing more than scream.

"I swear, this isn't what you think it is, Arthur, please-"

"Save it." Arthur cut him off coldly. "What goes on behind closed doors is yours to know only." He then turned around and opened the door again. "Please, don't let me stop you. Carry on like I wasn't. Even. There." The last few words bit through Alfred's heart, and his legs felt shaky all of a sudden.

"Arthur, please, just listen to me!" he tried to plead, rushing forward to gently take Arthur's free hand into his.

"King of Spades, I advise you not to touch me, lest I do something I might regret later on, like cut it off." Arthur hissed back at him, pulling his hand out like he'd been burned. "I can't stop you. I'm just your meaningless Queen. You're King, you can do what you want, with whoever you want." He spat bitterly before stepping back inside and stomping off.

"It's you!" Alfred called after him, realizing his voice was coming out in whispers, his throat locked with regret and self-hate and shame. "It's you..." he bit his lip, turning his gaze to the ground. "It's only you I want..." he mouthed to himself, letting the pain of his clenching heart course through his entire body as punishment for having hurt the one he cared about most so much.

"Your Majesty..." Lady Mariella's voice came from behind him. Alfred was briefly tempted to banish her (because surely he could do that, right?) from the castle, but then, he realized that she was not to blame.

He was. He hadn't been able to listen to his heart. And because of that, it was now breaking.

"Just stay here." Alfred shook his head, pulling his glasses off and rubbing the bridge of his nose tiredly. He hated having to deal with complications like this. And he hated making mistakes that would cost him so dearly. There weren't many things he wanted in this life, so technically, he should be able to achieve them all, right?

He just wanted Arthur to care for him as he had come to care for Arthur these past few months spent side by side.

And if he had to get on his knees for it to happen... Then so be it. Alfred just wanted Arthur.

Without even thinking, his slipped his glasses back on, the moonlight glinting off the glass and illuminating the determination in his eyes, and broke into a run inside to find Arthur.

The ballroom felt more crowded than usual. Alfred pushed across people and ran, trying to spot the blond hair he loved smelling so much, the large eyebrows he loved feeling so much, and the deep jade eyes he loved gazing into so much... but to no avail, Arthur was nowhere to be found. Lost in a sea of faces, out of reach.

In reality, Arthur had headed immediately for the kitchens after he'd found Alfred outside, and, sitting down by a counter, he'd finally gotten some peace and quiet as the chefs had stopped working. Alone, he'd sat, glasses of different shapes and sizes lined in front of him. He'd looked at the glasses, and then at the bottles on the walls, and then had decided that that had been the only way to find happiness.

Within the hazy bliss spun by the lies that alcohol made him believe.

Alfred found him half an hour away in that very same spot, after having been directed by a worried kitchen staff. He carefully got near him, unsure how to approach him about the small misunderstanding that had obviously upset them both, when he realized that Arthur was hunched over a glass of brownish-copper liquid, trailing his finger on the rim. His heart clenched as he recognized the blank, lost look in his eyes.

"Arthur?" he softly called as he stepped carefully closer, dragging a chair and dropping down on it, looking sadly at what had become of his Queen. Because of him. Because of his idiocy and foolishness. A good King cared for their Queen. Alfred obviously still hadn't become a good King, no matter what he did to prove he was.

Arthur didn't reply, merely kept mouthing unintelligible things as he looked at the liquid in his glass, rimming it with his index. Alfred didn't need to look at the many bottles on the counter and the many broken and toppled glasses to know that this wasn't Arthur's first. And that he didn't intend to make it his last.

"Arthur, please... Can you hear me?" Alfred called softly, unwilling to touch him just yet lest he get a violent reaction.

"And POP!" Arthur suddenly exclaimed, picking up his glass and shooting down whatever was inside in a single gulp. "Goes the weasel." He finished in a mumble, putting down his glass and turning his eyes to the bottles to pick another drink.

"Oh god." Alfred blanched. "Oh god, Arthur, what have you done?" he asked quietly, afraid of the answer.

"Who, me?" Arthur finally turned to him and looked at him for a moment, as if not recognizing him, and then nodded. "Oh, yeah, Arthur. Queen of b-bloody Spades. Yep. Uhhh... I'm not sure." He looked dumbly at Alfred for a moment before the lost look in his eyes became dark. "Oh." He seemed to shrink away from Alfred and grabbed another bottle at random. "Oh yeah... I'm getting drunk because your idiocy isn't worth remembering."

"Arthur, stop. What are you doing?" Alfred asked again, unbelieving that Arthur had been pushed so far just because of one mistake. That was bad. Alfred had caused it all, and he felt horrible.

"You're right..." Arthur looked at the shot glass in his hand, and suddenly threw it over his shoulder. It shattered on the ground with a shrill smashing sound that almost made Alfred topple off his chair.

"What the-" Alfred took a moment to calm his heart, and then incredulously turned to Arthur, who was trying to open the bottle cap. "Arthur, what the hell are you doing?"

"Drinking out of the bottle, of course!" he laughed as if it was nothing but a joke. "You suggested it, poppet. Cheers!" he cackled once before putting the bottle to his lips and chugging. Chugging and chugging, and Alfred was having a panic attack.

"Arthur, please, stop." He protested, making a move to stop him. Arthur didn't move. "Please, Arthur, stop this madness!" he insisted, finally grabbing the bottle and attempting to pry it away from Arthur. Arthur growled at him and tried to pull on his side, but the alcohol had dulled his senses already. "Arthur, stop it!" he finally snapped, giving a harsh tug, which caused the bottle to escape both their grips and smash on the ground, alcohol running everywhere.

"Fuck..." Arthur immediately swore, eyes wide. "Look at what you've done! Look!" he pointed at the ground, cheeks red and eyes wide.

"I saved you years on your life span!" Alfred immediately went on a defensive note seeing as Arthur was obviously intending to attack.

"You doomed me to live knowing I had nothing left anymore!" Arthur protested loudly, and suddenly, everything stopped. The noises stopped, the voices stopped, and only their breaths remained, panting until they reached normal level again.

"Arthur, this can't be because you saw me kiss-"

"-dry hump and snog."

"Whatever. That's not the point." Alfred shook his head, hopeless as he stood uncomfortably under the angry, desperate gaze of his Queen. "Point is... Why are you doing this to yourself? Is it really because of me and what I did tonight?"

"It's because of you... And everything you've ever done..." Arthur merely replied, sighing and turning to face he bar, and slamming his head down on his arms in a sleeping position.

"Arthur..." Alfred heart strings tugged as he fumbled for things to say. He wasn't eloquent. He wasn't a genius. He wasn't a psychologist. He was just a farmer from the ninth district, a brother, a husband and a King. And he just didn't know what he could say to him. "You've got to tell me... what I've done. So I can make it better." He got closer and laid a comforting hand on Arthur's shoulder. The latter shivered, but didn't move.

"I won't tell you. I won't be weak." Arthur slurred from the inside of his cocoon. "I won't be broken. You won't break me."

"Arthur, I'm not going to break you!" Alfred groaned, frustrated. "I'm not going to hurt you, I'm not going to betray you, and I'm not going to judge you." His heart flipped in his chest as he wondered why he cared so much about a man so cracked in various places.

"You already are, though..." Arthur finally whispered, lifting his head and gazing at Alfred with regret pooling in his eyes.

"Listen, whatever I've done..." Alfred gulped down his pride and took Arthur by the shoulders, forcing him to look up. "I'm sorry." His throat went dry as he pronounced those words. They felt empty. Like nothing he could say would ever make up for everything he'd done to Arthur.

"Sorry..." Arthur chuckled. "Sorry's a bit late, love." Alfred heart leapt at the pet name, but he refused to smile.

"Tell me what this is about, then." He whispered, getting in close to Arthur so they could both be in their bubble. "Something is bothering you. I need to know what that is so I can fix it. So I can be your hero, Arthur. Let me be your hero." He whispered into his ear, and then drew back to look at him eye to eye.

Arthur looked at him for a moment, eyes wide and confused and _betrayed, _breathing softly through his mouth. Each puff of breath escaping those perfectly (in Alfred's honest opinion) kissable lips smelled like alcohol, and Alfred hated that smell on Arthur. It didn't suit him.

"For me to tell you, you're going to have to do something for me." Arthur finally nodded, and if Alfred had not immediately gone into theories, he would have realized how clear and calculating Arthur's eyes had become for a split second there.

"What is it?" Alfred encouraged.

"You're going to have to toast with me. To the magic of the King and Queen of Spades." He slurred slightly, pulling over two large shot glasses and shakily bringing a few bottles of alcohol to his side as well.

"Are you sure that's the only way?" Alfred winced, glad he could finally figure out what was wrong with Arthur, but reluctant to let Arthur have more alcohol. One little shot never hurt anybody, though, right? It would be fine.

"Yes it is. From this moment on, until you hear what I have to say, just follow my lead." Arthur hiccupped once, pushing one of the shot glasses to Alfred.

Alfred eyed the colourful liquid inside dubitatively, and threw Arthur and uncertain glance.

"Don't worry. Just shoot it down in one gulp. Have you ever drunk before?" Arthur inquired, raising the glass.

"No..." Alfred suddenly felt a bit nervous, apprehensive, even.

"Good. Did you eat anything in the past half hour?" he asked again.

"A couple of those crackers and cheeses, and a few grapes..." Alfred's throat locked, nervous as he wondered what the questions were for.

"Wonderful." Arthur suddenly smirked, lifting his glass in the air. "To the magic between the King and the Queen of Spades."

"To the magic between the King and Queen of Spades." Alfred repeated, and then took a deep breath. "Cheers."

And they both shot their glasses down.

_...OOOOOOOOOOOO..._

"That was... peculiar." Alfred commented as he stumbled inside their private quarters, glad that the maids had the foresight to light plenty of candles in their room already.

"I- hahaha. I can't believe you got d-drunk after a single shot glass!" Arthur followed him in, laughing.

"I-I didn't get drunk! Mildly... tipsy!" Alfred concluded as he went for the bed and fell on it, sighing.

"Move over, drunk man, coming through!" Arthur huffed before jumping on their shared bed as well.

"Ow, idiot!" Alfred whined as Arthur hit him in the face accidentally.

"Your face's fault for being in my hand's way." Arthur grumbled, clumsily starting to pull off his clothes. "Ugh, it's so hot in here."

"The windows aren't open." Alfred remarked, making a move to open them, but Arthur nudged him with his knee and groaned.

"Don't go... Just stay." He muttered with surprising clarity, hiding his face in the sheets, suddenly embarrassed.

"I..." Alfred stopped in surprise, and then sighed, smiling fondly. "Okay. I'll stay." Forever.

Arthur only growled to that and put his head back down, closing his eyes. Noting that his head was still swimming, Alfred decided to do the same. They both enjoyed a small moment of silence, each sprawled out in a drunken haze. And then, Arthur decided he didn't like the silence.

Alfred opened his eyes when he heard Arthur moving next to him, and to his great shock, he found Arthur cuddling closer to him, pressed against his side.

"Don't say anything." Arthur grunted, hesitating a little before putting his hands lightly on Alfred's chest. Alfred tried to protest, but the words wouldn't come. Arthur's eyes were hazy, but had surprising clarity in them. His lips were shut in a tight line, his fingers gently toying with the cloth of Alfred's shirt, and he looked hesitant, lost and insecure at the same time.

"Arthur…" Alfred couldn't help but whisper. Bathed in moonlight, Arthur looked breathtaking. Literally, as Alfred felt his throat go dry when Arthur looked up, responding to his name.

They didn't speak as their gazes locked, both of them apprehensive about breaking the moment of tranquility they were sharing. There was a haze around them, and though it might just have been the alcohol coursing through their systems, it was… alluring. Tempting. And they were both having a hard time standing still and resisting to the call of instincts.

Surprisingly, Arthur was the first to cave.

"Alfred." He whispered, moving with unexpected vigour as he rolled over and tangled his legs with Alfred's.

"What are you doing?" Alfred asked, more curious than protesting. His mind wasn't working clearly enough to realize his position. All he knew was that it was pleasant, and that's all that mattered.

"Shut up." Arthur put a hand on his lips, his eyes never leaving Alfred's.

And Alfred did something he never would have done if he had been fully conscious of his actions. He took Arthur's hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it, never breaking the eye contact.

Arthur's eyes went wide, and a slight tinge of pink coloured his already flushed face. He didn't pull his hand out, though. He liked the feeling of Alfred's larger hand holding his, their legs tangled, so close that their breaths mingled, and reading one another's heart through their eyes. Scratch that… he loved it.

"Alfred, I want to kiss you." He finally announced what he'd been dreading all along. Some part of him protested, saying it was improper and unnecessary, that it would ruin the distance he'd worked so hard to put in between Alfred and himself, that it would hurt him more than it would do him good.

The other part of him completely disagreed, immediately jumping to his actions' defense, saying there was no wrong in asking to kiss the one he'd grown to care for so much. So much, that is actually hurt when they weren't together. So much, that it made him want to die when he'd found Alfred in the arms of somebody else.

Alfred didn't reply, eyes half-lidded as he debated what to do. The debate didn't last long in his drunken mind, though. Running on instinct since his logic was currently on vacation, he nodded, but didn't find the strength to act upon his decision. He didn't know how to approach Arthur. Images of what had transpired less than an hour ago were still imprinted in his mind. He hated how the memories burned. And he hated the thought of hurting Arthur again.

Arthur didn't waste a moment in taking the lead, though.

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and leaned in, mouth open slightly, searching for his goal. Alfred's heart skipped a beat, because Arthur looked absolutely gorgeous, and he was scared- so scared of ruining it for him. Arthur only deserved the best. He was far from it, really. Despite that, though, he couldn't help but want this as much as Arthur did.

He was imperfect. Arthur knew it. So Arthur would know how big of a mess he was getting himself into by doing this. Or maybe he didn't, courtesy of the alcohol fuzzing their senses. Either way, Alfred wasn't about to stop him.

He let his eyes slip shut and closed the distance between them.

The first kiss was soft and chaste. They were testing each other, locating their limitations, what they could or could not do with one another. As soon as they parted, though, something started burning inside their bellies, and they found that they couldn't stay apart for much longer.

Arthur gave into his desire much quicker than Alfred did, because he wasn't conflicted about it all. He knew what he wanted, and he was taking it. Alfred knew what he wanted, and wanted to take it, too, but… most of all, he wanted Arthur to be happy. He didn't know what to do anymore.

Noticing that Alfred wasn't moving against him, Arthur thought that he wasn't being insistent enough. Had he gotten his message across? Had Alfred understood why he'd gotten so upset? He just hoped he wouldn't have to say out loud what had been plaguing him for a while now. It was embarrassing. People said that actions spoke louder than words. Maybe it was time to put that theory into practice.

He kissed Alfred again, trying to claim as much of him as possible. Alfred was barely responding, though, and Arthur was afraid, afraid that he'd done something wrong, and that he'd ruined everything in between them forever. Maybe they just weren't meant to be. A King and Queen that had grasped the magic in between them for a moment in time before letting it fly away, out of their reach forever.

"Alfred." He whined, cupping his husband's face and rubbing circles into his cheeks. "Alfred, kiss me." He whispered, a tinge of desperation lacing his voice. He didn't want them to be distant anymore. Alcohol was giving him the strength he needed to clear the gap. So here he was, clearing it.

Alfred looked at him, confused and surprised by the demand, but felt compelled to comply. So he set his hands gently around Arthur's wrists and drew him closer, moulding his lips between Arthur's.

Their position remained ever-changing after that. Something burst in between them after the second contact, and Alfred found it hard to stop once he started. Arthur was pulling him in, alluring and tempting where he laid, breathing heavily as he desperately tried to gather enough breath to continue kissing Alfred. The blush was bright on his face, and Alfred adored how mesmerizing he looked.

He couldn't resist anymore, and leaned over Arthur to kiss him again. As if on reflex, Arthur swung his arms around his neck and whined against his mouth, as if asking for more. Alfred couldn't help but oblige, with Arthur looking positively radiant like that. Despite never having done that before, he nudged Arthur's lips with his tongue, and Arthur willingly let him in without a second thought.

The heat built up between them as they explored each other thoroughly. They both wanted to know the other better than anything else, and better than anyone else. Alfred loved the engulfing heat of Arthur's mouth, and Arthur loved the insecure, innocent little movements that Alfred made as he sought approval.

Hands started roaming as they found nothing left to discover with their current contact. Buttons were the first to pop off, and clothes were second to be tossed off. In a matter of moment, Arthur had managed to strip Alfred down to his bottommost layer of clothing, his now-unbuttoned button-up shirt, and Alfred had managed to get (without much coaxing) Arthur out of his clothes, leaving his skin to sparkle in the moonlight.

"You're beautiful." Alfred whispered against Arthur's lips as he ran his hands across his shoulders, feeling the shivers dancing across Arthur's skin on his palms.

"Says the drunk man. I don't know if that's a compliment or not." Arthur chuckled lowly, his voice hitting a breathy pitch that made something inside of Alfred twitch and come to life.

"Shut up." He ordered, taking Arthur by the upper arms and pinning him on the mattress before attacking his jawline with his teeth and lips. Arthur angled his head backwards, making small noises of approval, and Alfred couldn't help but find it ironic that he was doing to Arthur what someone else had been doing to him an hour ago.

His hands left their place as he trailed down Arthur's neck and roamed down his chest, caressing the outline of his ribs, his taut stomach, the dip of his collarbone and every inch of skin there was available to the touch. Arthur occasionally whined, encouraging Alfred to work faster to hear more of those delicious noises, but most of the time just stayed motionless, melting under Alfred's ministrations and wondering where in hell he'd picked up his skills.

He just hoped Alfred hadn't done any of this before and was just guessing.

"Are you alright?" Alfred asked once he found himself ready to take a step forward.

Arthur briefly lifted his head up and his breath caught at how gorgeous Alfred looked, hunched over him, lips swollen from all the kissing. He thought of the marks he'd left on his skin made him shiver. He loved it. He loved every single moment of this, and didn't want it to stop for anything in the world.

"I'm ready when you are, poppet." He breathed, his voice breaking at the last word. He needed Alfred to know that he wasn't just doing this out of physical need and want. He was doing it because he desired to feel Alfred close to him in every sense of the term, and this was pretty much everything they would ever be able to do. This was the pinnacle, the culminating point of their so-far extremely rocky and insecure love-hate relationship. And despite having run through all the other bases way too quickly, he was ready for this.

He just hoped Alfred was mentally ready for what they were about to do, too.

"Okay." Alfred nodded, and found himself lost for a moment. The haze in his mind didn't do much for his judgement. What now? "… Lift your hips, I guess." He encouraged, fumbling with the buttons of Arthur's pants.

Arthur nodded, unable to speak, and did as he was told. Once Alfred was done struggling with the buttons, the pants were slipped off of him, the cool night air hitting his legs and making him shiver.

"You still okay?" Alfred asked again, just to make sure. Despite not being entirely in control of his logic, he still knew how important it was for Arthur to be okay with what they were doing because, after all, there was no turning back.

"Yes I am, just get on with it!" Arthur growled back at him, need gnawing at his insides. He was so hot, and being pressed so close to Alfred made him even hotter. His vision was blurry, but he still managed to get his hands on Alfred's pants and quickly worked them off. Alfred was left mildly surprised at how quick he'd been, despite being drunk out of his mind.

"Okay." Alfred nodded nervously and fumbled around until he got a hand set on Arthur's stomach and caressed, going lower and pulling at his underwear. Arthur closed his eyes and breathed harshly through his nose, trying to keep himself under control. He did do pretty well with that, at least, until Alfred worked his fingers, and Arthur instinctively arched his back, whimpering.

Alfred looked relieved, and kept going. With every stroke, Arthur found it harder and harder to breathe, pleasure consuming him as he realized that Alfred was the one sharing this experience with him. He wouldn't have anybody else.

The heat built up until it was almost too much to bear. And that's when Arthur realized that the entire time, he'd been writhing and whimpering while Alfred worked. And that wasn't how it was supposed to go. They were equals, and they were doing this together. They both deserved it equally.

"A-Alfred..." his breath caught in his throat as he shakily put his arms around his shoulders. Alfred immediately stopped, afraid that he'd done something wrong, but relaxed when Arthur pushed against him, locking their lips for an open-mouthed kiss that left them both breathless. "S-Stop teasing..." he blushed brightly, looking away. Even through his hazy mind, he realized how desperate he sounded. He wasn't desperate for anything. Just Alfred. Anything Alfred could give him, he would take.

"O-Oh." Alfred seemed to get the implication and blushed as well, fidgeting a little before getting a grip on Arthur with one hand and snaking his other hand down his naked skin. "Uhh... Okay then." He nodded, gulping down nervously.

Arthur put his forehead in the crook of his neck and waited, wondering what he would do. At first, his fingers felt nice, and then, they became a bit more uncomfortable. Arthur let him proceed, though, because he trusted Alfred. And if he were sober enough to use his common sense, he wouldn't have yelped when a sharp pain struck him from the inside, and he certainly wouldn't have pushed Alfred away, either.

"I-I'm sorry, Arthur!" Alfred looked absolutely stricken. "I-I should've warned you a-and..." he went silent, blushing, and looking entirely uncomfortable with the entire thing. Arthur sighed and looked at him for a second longer, letting the ache in his lower body fade away, before he crawled back into his lap and caressed his face.

"Don't apologize. I'm sorry for being so abrupt." He whispered, kissing him again. "There... There are other ways we could..." he let his sentence hang, just in case Alfred wanted to add anything.

He didn't, though. Despite looking somewhat unconvinced, the lack of common sense pushed him to nod and kiss Arthur back, laying him on the mattress again before removing his underwear as well. A look was shared, and then Alfred dipped in for another kiss, bringing his entire body down with him, over Arthur's.

The rest was just a haze of heat and pleasure. Their movements were imprecise, haphazard, and most definitely sloppy, but it didn't matter, because everything felt good in each other's hold. None of them actually knew what they were doing, the alcohol dulling their senses and killing their consciousness, and leaving in its wake nothing but pure instinct.

In retrospect, none of them thought that this was how they would do it for the first time. Then again, they never imagined beforehand that they would ever get to do it at all. Arthur, too insecure, and Alfred, unwilling to accept, they'd stayed on their side of the fence and had never dared wander too close to the other side, afraid of rejection, hurt, and suffering.

But tonight... Tonight, the barrier had been broken, and they'd (albeit unconsciously) found themselves in the middle, fingers entwined.

That's how they were left, also, once they finished. Panting and trying to catch their breaths, exhaustion bright in their eyes, they were left laying down, pressed close, fingers interwoven and gazes locked.

It took them some time to come down from whatever high they had been on. And as they did, realization slowly peeked out from behind the fog of alcohol, and knocked them on the head.

Arthur, never having been good with closing the dam once it had been opened, was the first to let the tears run down his cheeks. Alfred did notice quick enough as the drops glistened in his eyes and on his cheeks, making him look even more angelic than usual. Something was asking to burst inside of him, and he was barely controlling himself.

"'Sup, babe?" he muttered, both the alcohol and the exhaustion slurring his words.

Arthur didn't reply, and let the tears continue their course down his face.

"Artie. Hey, Queenie. Come on. Tell me what's wrong." He asked again, before a flash of fear sparked through his heart. "Was it... was it not good for you? D-Did I... do something wrong?" he felt his throat go dry at the mere thought that even in the greatest of all practices, he hadn't been enough for Arthur.

"N-No." Arthur croaked out, his voice scratched by the tears that were weighing down on his consciousness, already heavy with alcohol and exhaustion as well. "It's just..." he'd promised himself he'd do it tonight. It had come out a lot differently than he'd imagined, but he still had to do it. While he still could. While he still felt courageous enough to do it. "You know how I said I had something to tell you?"

"Yeah." Alfred nodded slowly, ruffling the sheets under his cheek, and remembering that this had all been done because of that single little thing Arthur had wanted to tell him. It may as well be damn important, he figured. "You can tell me now." He encouraged, as if it weren't obvious enough. He untangled his hands and took Arthur's in his, holding them to his heart, assuring him that he could tell him anything.

Arthur looked at him, and for an outsider, it would have looked like he was debating whether or not to trust Alfred. In reality, he was debating whether to trust himself or not, and whether what he was about to say would do them more good or more harm.

His head hurt too much to keep going on. So before he could think back and regret, he opened his mouth.

"I love you."

Alfred froze immediately. The weight of what he'd done hit Arthur head-on, causing more tears to escape his eyes, along with a pathetic sniffle. He curled up closer against Alfred and pressed his face against the side of his ribcage, enjoying the feeling of Alfred's hot skin smudging his cool tears against his skin.

"I love you." He repeated, as if not believing himself. "Alfred, I love you." He added again, afraid that Alfred hadn't heard him right the first two times. Or that, if he'd heard, and decided to ignore his desperate confession, that the third time would be the charm.

Alfred just looked at him with wide eyes, grip slacking for just one moment, disbelief coursing through him.

That couldn't be right. Arthur, loving someone like him? A commoner? Someone that hadn't stopped insulting him and telling him how much he didn't like him? That couldn't be right. He refused to acknowledge that this could be anything but a lie. He refused to let himself be happy, afraid that it would all break down afterwards.

Still, he wasn't expecting that. Not from Arthur. Not now. Not ever, really. Something exploded inside his heart, and he momentarily found it hard to breathe. Arthur loved him. That should have been enough. But it wasn't.

"Alfred?" Arthur shakily called, noticing that he hadn't moved. "A-Alfred, p-please, I-I..." he choked out another sob. "I-I'm sorry, I just... I l-love you... s-so much..."

"Arthur." Alfred finally found himself cutting his husband off with a stern glare that had surprising clarity in it. It was like his alcohol-dulled senses had returned for just one moment, just for the time it took to pronounce his next sentence. "Tell me again when you're sober, and only then I'll believe you."

Arthur's eyes went wide, and he choked again.

"B-But-" the protest was forming on his lips, but it never had time to manifest itself. Alfred just sighed and pulled the cover over them, kissing his forehead and effectively shutting him up.

"Arthur." He stopped him again. "You're drunk."

Arthur just looked at him again, eyes wide and wet. A mix of disappointment, hope and anguish was coursing through his veins, but he just couldn't place what his reaction should have been. He was just so confused. Why couldn't anything be simple?

"I know..." he finally whispered when he finally gave in to the desolation that was threatening to overwhelm him. "I... I wouldn't have been able to say it if I wasn't..." he admitted, before flipping around clumsily and curling up on himself, as if to protect himself from the outside world.

Alfred blinked to clear the mild shock he felt at Arthur's words, but couldn't bring himself to over-analyze anything. He was just so tired, dizzy and confused... He just needed his sleep to clear his head now.

Wordlessly, he threw a worried look at Arthur's turned back, and then turned around as well, closing his eyes.

They would deal with it in the morning. The dreaded morning after.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

**Okay, so if you're cracky in the head like I am, you would've thought that Arthur was going to say "I'm pregnant, and it's your baby" xD But nope. It was something less epic, and just a lot more sentimental.**

**Actually, I had a nightmare about this chapter. In it, all my readers reviewed, complaining that the sexy tiemz were misplaced and awkward and totally irrelevant to the story and that they weren't going to read anymore. So that was my nightmare. Hope it's not a premonition D:**

**Drinking: Devious!drunk!Arthur is devious. Did you see how he totally planned it from the beginning? He asked Alfred if he had eaten anything, and if he'd even drunk before. So Alfred did obviously get drunk on a single shot, because 1) it was very strong alcohol 2) he hasn't ever touched alcohol before 3) he's drinking on a quasi-empty stomach. Also, kids, don't drink on an empty stomach. It's very dangerous. **

**Also, about the sex itself: I hope you do realize that anal sex is uncommon, even with gay couples. Most of the time, gay couples use intercrural techniques because anal sex requires a lot of expertise and experience (LOL), and it's very painful. So most obviously, Arthur and Alfred weren't going to have anal sex for their first time while drunk and totally not in control of their movements. Anal takes a lot of preparation and has to be conducted carefully, and two inexperienced teenagers couldn't pull that off while drunk. **

**And this is the culminating point of the USUK, along with the next chapter (which I have to rewrite, ohmigod ;A; ). I hope that wasn't TOO bad for you. If you're worried, don't be, because that was pretty much the only sex scene in the story (and even then... that wasn't much of a lemon, was it? xD).**

**Next chapter is going to be late, like I said, because I lost my file and rewriting 8000 words from memory isn't one of my most favourite hobbies. I'm sad, you guys, like you wouldn't believe. I could cry ;_; So yep. I know the next chapter might be a while from now (couple of weeks?) but please bear with me. And please review! Please!**


	11. Columbia

**Author's Notes**

**Finally! I'm finally done! The rewrite obviously isn't as good as the original (ahufoeifr this version seems so much worse to me... OTL) but... I hope it'll be good enough for you guys :C I'm sorry. And, after this, we're not out of trouble yet. Rewriting has been the most disheartening and painful experience for me, and the document I lost had about... 2000 words into the 12th chapter. That means that the first part of the 12th chapter is a rewrite, too, so... chapter 12 will take long as well. Maybe not as long as the wait for this one, but long anyway. **

**I want to thank the beautiful reviewers for motivating me, as usual, so a huge thanks goes to Banboorain, kurichan729, Rainstorm-Mosspath, Waytoomuchadoaboutnothing, WRITING IS TIRESOME YEAH, ZhangArronXun, HamburgerWithTea, BadApple123, mlpnkobnhjui, Canada Cowboy, MYJEN123, PKAquaFlame, xXxPrettyinPinkxXx, bobness, Angel of the Midnight Sea, Ember Hinote and OMGPandi!**

**Also, for those of you who have read BEAUTIFUL NIGHTMARE, ZhangArronXun graciously made fanart for it, and I wanted to share it with you all because it's gorgeous ;w; THANKS AGAIN, ZHANG, IT'S AMAZING. To access the link, just add the following code to the address bar once you go on deviantart. **

**/#/d5cuiyf**

**Alright so... here we go, I guess. I hope you don't cringe too much with this. Once again, I'm sorry, but... enjoy?**

* * *

Arthur woke up first to the sound of birds chirping and the smell of salty sweat in the air. At first, he only noticed how Alfred had, once again, managed to get his arms around his waist, but didn't pay it any heed. They woke up like this one morning on two, so it didn't bother him anymore. It _really _didn't bother him. _At all._

He was busy enjoying how comfortable Alfred's arms were when the dreaded headache finally hit him like an anchor in the face. This sent him shooting up and moaning in pain, clutching his head and waiting for it to pass. No matter how many times he got hung over, he could never get used to the morning after. And it definitely wouldn't go away if he didn't do anything about it. So, deciding to get up and take some pain medicine, he threw the covers off of him.

There was a small moment of silence, and then, Arthur screamed.

Alfred was busy enjoying a comfortable, deep sleep, when suddenly, a piercing scream left him scrambling up in panic, wide awake and tensed for attack.

"What's wrong?" he immediately asked once he realized that there was no imminent danger.

"Y-YOU!" was the quasi-instantaneous accusation, and Alfred was treated to the sight of a finger in his face.

"Yeah, me. Who else?" he grunted, pushing the offending finger away from him and groaning as he clutched his head. "Is my skull split in half? I wouldn't be surprised if it was."

"Don't you DARE dismiss this kind of thing!" Arthur kept going, pulling the blanket up to his chest, on his knees a bit further away from Alfred and unable to muster up the strength in his legs that would allow him to run away from the confrontation.

"Dude, Artie, calm your ass. It's too early in the morning to be yelling like this." Alfred groaned again as he made a move to get out of bed.

"Don't you dare run!" was the sentence that stopped him. Surprised, he turned around to face Arthur, and his surprise turned into full-blown shock when he realized that he looked like he was on the verge of crying.

"A-Arthur?" he stammered, unsure about what to do. The entire situation was becoming a bit awkward for them both, and Alfred wasn't even sure yet if it was his fault. He hadn't done anything wrong, as far as he was concerned. Then again, last night was did draw a blank in his head...

"Don't you dare run, Alfred." Arthur shook his head again, looking absolutely torn in conflict. "Explain yourself."

"Explain what?" Alfred furrowed his eyebrows, confused. Did something happen, last night? He hoped it wasn't anything bad... "Arthur, I don't get it. What's wrong?" He then made a move to get closer to Arthur.

The blanket fell off of him as he got on his knees, and Alfred was immediately aware of the breeze.

"Oh." Was the only thing he felt smart enough to say. "Well... This is awkward."

"What did you do?" Arthur exclaimed, now full-fledged panicking.

"I-I didn't do anything!" Alfred immediately defended himself. "I-I don't even remember anything from last night!"

"You don't even have the decency to remember what you've done?" Arthur yelled again.

"You're the one that got drunk and got me drunk in the first place!" Alfred retaliated, frustration welling up within him. Why was Arthur blaming it all on him? As if it was his fault that anything had happened between them.

(Okay, so maybe it was partially his fault. Detail).

"You didn't have to go and do... do _this_, even if you were drunk!"

"Arthur, please, calm down!" Alfred made a move to put a comforting hand on Arthur's shoulder, but was shocked when Arthur slapped his hand away.

"Don't touch me!" he shrieked, looking at Alfred with a mix of fear, anger, and desperation. Alfred's heart broke without prior warning.

"Arthur..." he drew his hand back, hurt clear in his eyes. "Do you... Do you remember what you said last night?"

He didn't reply. Instead, the older blonde tugged the blanket up to his shoulders, insecurity coursing through his veins. He couldn't believe this had happened. Not to him. Not to them. This couldn't have been how their first time had gone. He didn't even want to believe there would be a first time, but now that there had been, he just wished it didn't have to be this way.

He felt disgusting, because deep inside, he blamed himself for everything. For getting Alfred drunk, for having given in to his needs instead of respecting his wants, and for having fallen for his King so badly. It was his fault, and it would be his fault if their relationship fell apart now.

Arthur couldn't live with the guilt. He really needed some time off.

"I'm going to leave." He announced a bit more quietly, afraid that the quiver in his voice would be more obvious if he spoke louder.

Alfred made a move to stop him, but he didn't know what to say. Don't go? That would be too desperate, and too useless. Please stay? Still too desperate, and still too useless. He didn't have the words to tell Arthur how much he only regretted not remembering, and how gorgeous he must have looked, and how he really really wished it hadn't been this way. He hated his lack of eloquence. He hated not being able to communicate with Arthur. And he hated creating misunderstandings like this.

It wasn't like he didn't care... it was just... he couldn't tell Arthur how much he really cared.

Seeing as Alfred wasn't replying, Arthur bristled and figured that his anguish meant nothing to him. He didn't want Alfred to be cold and heartless with him. Not professionally, and even less personally. He hated how much distance they'd put between them with this one series of actions. He really hated how they'd already started falling apart.

"Look away." He coldly ordered, and Alfred looked away immediately. Not because he wanted to comply to Arthur's demands, necessarily, but... More because he didn't feel worthy enough to get another glimpse at his glorious entirety. Arthur was perfect, and only deserved a perfect partner. Alfred was far from perfect, and he was dirty, gritty, slimy, disgusting for what he'd done. He didn't deserve Arthur. He never would.

Despair coursed through him, and he laid back down, pulling his side of the covers over his head, and trying very hard to hold in the burning in his eyes.

Arthur wordlessly got up and very quickly dressed into something simple, just enough to get him outside their room with some decency. He didn't know where he could go, but he needed to leave Alfred for an indeterminate amount of time. Anywhere but there would be fine. Anywhere where he could hopefully be alone and be able to cry without anyone seeing him break.

Alfred didn't move until he heard the door click shut, and only after he was sure that Arthur was not even on the same floor as him, he let himself go and let out a choked sob. He cried for the rift between him and Arthur, and he cried for his poor skills as the great King he only wanted to become.

The greatest of Kings were only the greatest because they loved and were loved by their people, their nation, and their Queen.

_...OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO..._

The breeze blew through the grass, a soft, warm wind caressing Alfred's cheeks as he looked around him. The royal couples from every country were now in the gardens, chit-chatting and entertaining themselves as they waited for their carriages back home to arrive.

The Queen of Hearts, Kiku, was making small talk with Yao by the small fountain, both of them seemingly very engaged in the conversation as they sat on the concrete edge and occasionally dipped their fingers into the pure, crystalline water. The King of Hearts, Ludwig, was standing by a hedge of blue roses, discussing army tactics with Mathias, who seemed to be having the time of his life as he discussed his passion with someone as experienced and passionate as him.

And Arthur, to whom his eyes wandered most often, was leading Lili, Queen of Diamonds, around, discussing the gorgeous flowers they'd had planted in the royal gardens. They both looked very into their conversation, so they didn't notice Alfred drilling holes in their direction with his glare.

And Alfred himself was being somewhat not subtle at all, holding his book upside down as he hid behind it, pretending to read something that was honestly highly unentertaining. Seeing Arthur smile never got old, so he much rather do that, instead.

"I see you're very interested in what you're doing." A voice broke through his train of thoughts, and Alfred snapped out of his daze when someone flipped the book in his hands back into the upright position. "There. You look much more believable now." The newcomer, whom Alfred identified as Francis, chuckled.

"Didn't need your help..." Alfred mumbled, looking away. His gaze inadvertently slipped back to Arthur. Francis, of course, could not help but notice this.

"I think you still do, _mon ami_." He chuckled again. "Your Queen has a very nice shape. I envy you." He commented, looking at Arthur appreciatively as he turned around and bent over to pick out a flower for Lili.

"Stop looking at him." Alfred gruffly answered, glaring at Francis warningly.

"_Jaloux_?" the King of Diamonds raised his eyebrows, amused. "Do not fret, it was just a comment."

"Pervert..." Alfred muttered under his breath, turning his gaze back to Arthur.

Francis just rolled his eyes, hopeless.

"You really need help, and badly." He commented. "Don't worry about that." He looked around him and spotted Matthew as he went over to serve drinks to Yao and Kiku, waving him over. "I'll help you." He whispered before winking at Matthew as he came close.

"May I get anything for you, your Highness?" he asked quietly, bowing lightly. Alfred refused to look at him, not in the mood for anything but being on good terms with Arthur again. On second thought, that help didn't sound so bad...

"Coffee, one for me and one for my friend here." Francis waved over to Alfred, who still refused to look up.

"Certainly." Matthew bowed again before turning around and leaving to get what was asked of him.

As he left, Francis leaned a bit to get a glimpse of his backside, though he was quickly interrupted by a book slamming shut. When he looked up, Alfred was glaring at him even more murderously than before.

"Don't look at my brother, either." He seethed.

"_Mon Dieu_!" Francis shifted so he could sit straight in his chair again. "Is there nobody whose ass I can check in this castle?"

Alfred didn't look amused in the least.

"Alright, alright, don't get your panties in a knot, King of Spades." The King of Diamonds rolled his eyes. "I'll help you reclaim your Queen and avert a national crisis. Come with me." He patted his hand lightly before getting up.

Alfred didn't trust him, of course, but he weighed his options. It wasn't like he had anything to lose, since Francis hadn't even named his terms yet. If the terms didn't do well with him, all he'd have to do is decline. Or make his own terms. Negotiate. Practice to become a better ruler.

"Fine." It was in his best interest to follow, for now.

"_Merveilleux_!" Francis clapped, before turning around. "I know just the place where we could have a nice chat, just you and I."

Still slightly suspicious, Alfred got up and followed him silently. He didn't notice the pair of green eyes that narrowed at him as he left.

Francis led him towards the hedges a bit further away, and pushed one of them apart. To Alfred's surprise, an old, beaten cobblestone path came into view. Francis wordlessly engaged the pathway, and Alfred followed him after a small moment of hesitation. The path was not clean, as branches and vines hung low and forced the royals to duck. There weren't many flowers, just grass and weeds, leading Alfred to wonder where they were going.

His question was answered when they finally emerged through another set of hedges, prompting Alfred to swear softly as he ruffled some leaves out of his hair.

"Here we are." Francis snapped him out of his daze, sweeping the area with a move of his hand.

Alfred looked up, and froze immediately. Breath escaped his body for a second and his eyes widened.

The area was surrounded by untrimmed hedges, the cobblestone path they were on stopping, and melting into cracked white stone tiles that covered a large surface of the area. Beds of wildflowers bloomed on the perimeter, the grass uncut, small yellow flowers budding everywhere and swaying in the wind. On the opposite of where he stood was a white railing, a lonely blue rose snaking around it and adding a splash of colour to the white stone. Behind it, the void was obvious. It was a cliff, with the lake right at the bottom, the setting sun casting its orange and pink hues across the calm waters.

And in the very middle of the square of cracked, moss-covered tiles, was a small, glass top table with delicately carved white stone legs, with two straw-woven chairs on each side. A large cherry blossom tree was planted right next to it, casting its shadow across the tiles and letting its pink petals drift down and settle softly on the table, chairs and tiles. The combined roughness and delicateness of the scenery made his heart leap.

Alfred suddenly remembered to breathe again when Francis took a step onto the tiles, the heel of his boots clicking softly and disrupting the silence of nature. Shakily snapping out of his trance, he followed Francis' movements with his eyes as he stepped to the table and pulled one of the chairs, brushing off the pink petals that had drifted onto it.

"Join me?" he finally called, prompting Alfred to nod dumbly and follow in his footsteps. "Gorgeous, isn't it? If I had to point out one place in this castle that deserved to be captured in a portrait, it's this place." He look around fondly.

"How do you know this place exists?" Alfred asked quietly, as if afraid of disrupting the perfection of nature with his voice.

"I just do." Francis merely shrugged it off. "Actually, this is a corner that the previous King and Queen enjoyed very much. Only a handful of servants know of it, and as far as I'm concerned, not many castle inhabitants do, either. So we can have a private chat here, if you wish."

"Did... Did the previous King and Queen commission this?" Alfred asked, still mesmerized by his surroundings.

"I'm not well-versed in the history of Spades castle, but I believe that many generations ago, the King of Spades was madly in love with his Queen and commissioned this garden for her. They often came here and shared moments of intimacy, joy, and sadness. This place was their sanctuary and escape. Their memories were all created and stored in here. And then, the Queen passed away from a mysterious sickness, and the King was never the same again."

Alfred gulped down, nodding. If anything happened to his Queen... he'd never be the same again either.

"He stopped going to the garden. The servants discontinued their care and upkeep of it. Weeds and wildflowers started budding, the tiles cracked, and nobody returned there anymore. The memories of a long-gone era were lost."

Alfred shivered, the intensity of the words running through him like wildfire.

"And then... the previous King of Spades, may the gods bless his soul, on an adventure in his youth, discovered this place all over again. As you can testify, it left quite an impression on him, but he liked the idea of a secret hideout where nobody would be able to find him if he ever needed to escape. So he ordered the moderate upkeep of this place, to preserve its natural roughness and make it a great place to sit down and relax. He often brought his Queen here, too. This is practically the place where the King and Queen come when they want to escape reality for a moment." Francis finished his explanation with a fond smile.

"And... how do you know all this?" Alfred asked curiously.

"Oh, Arthur and I have often come here for a chat."

"You don't seem like you two get along very well." The other replied dubiously.

"Perhaps we don't always share our opinions, but... Arthur is a great friend of mine. He always has been." Francis chuckled, and slight jealousy welled up inside of Alfred's heart. Why couldn't his relationship be that wonderful, too? "Don't worry." Francis noted the look in his eyes and chuckled again. "You seek to reclaim your Queen and work out the mistakes you have both made, right?"

"Y-Yes..." Alfred admitted, looking away.

"There is nothing to be ashamed of. We are all human, and humans make mistakes, King of Spades." The title rolled smoothly off the foreigner's tongue, making Alfred shiver.

"Please tell me how I can take Arthur back." Alfred finally whispered.

"Certainly." Francis nodded before a ruffle of leaves drew his attention to the beaten cobblestone path. "Ah, but here comes our coffee." And indeed, a few seconds later, Matthew appeared through the wild bushes, balancing a platter with two coffee cups on it.

"Your Majesties." He called as he got closer and set down the coffee.

"Splendid." Francis nodded, though he never did look at his coffee. "Thank you. What's your name?"

"With all due respect, that's hardly appropriate, your Majesty." Matthew raised a brow, stepping back.

"Please, I insist. I must know who to thank properly." Francis looked at him with a smirk playing on his lips.

"... Matthew." Alfred's brother threw his twin an uncertain glance, but said twin was too busy being lost in his thoughts to notice.

"Well then, Mathieu." Francis gently took Matthew's hand and kissed the back of it with a wink. "_Merci beaucoup_."

"_I-Il n'y a pas d-de quoi_." Matthew stuttered right back, blushing madly and holding his hand to his chest. "Enjoy your coffee." He wished before scurrying right back off.

"Your brother speaks our language very well." Francis remarked once he'd disappeared through the hedges again.

"Mattie's always been an avid learner." Alfred grumbled, shame welling up within him. His own little brother was fluent in two languages, could read, and could write, and... well... then there was him. Alfred wanted to rip his hair out in frustration. Why could he never be good enough?

"I see." Francis sipped his coffee. "You're not far off, though."

"I'll never be as good as him." A sudden down pressed on him, and he looked away, ashamed. "I'll never be good enough for anybody."

"Come now, those aren't the words of a strong and confident King." Francis tut-tutted and leaned back in his chair.

"But I'm not." Alfred shook his head, frustration welling up in his eyes. "I... I'm not a strong and confident, and I'm not a King." He hid his face in his hands. "I'll... I'll never be anything more than a stupid commoner, someone pretending to be high and mighty and worthy of everything he's been given. I don't know anything, I don't have the knowledge, nor the experience required to rule a country, and to be a proper King. I don't know what to do." He bit his lip, struggling to hold the tears in. "I... I don't know what to do."

"It's good to humble yourself sometimes, but give yourself some credit." Francis shook his head. "And here, have some coffee, it's delicious."

"Credit for what?" Alfred raised his voice slightly, wondering if Francis and he were on the same wavelength at all. "I can't do anything! Look at me, pretending to run a country when I can't even stay on good terms with my own Queen!" he suddenly got up and slammed his hands on the dusty glass, making his coffee cup rattle. "I'm just running away from the fact that I am nothing, nothing at all without Arthur!"

"We're getting somewhere." Francis calmly replied. "Sit back down and tell me, Alfred." His eyes flashed. "Do you love him?"

Alfred waited a moment and then fell back down on his chair.

"I... I think so." He muttered.

"What makes you so unsure?"

"Well... I don't want to seal anything by saying I do. If... If he doesn't love me... it'll hurt less if I tell myself I was unsure in the first place." Alfred blushed, ashamed of himself.

"Lying to yourself is one of the common mistakes you can make." Francis sipped some more of his drink as if they were discussing the weather. "How do you expect to be in a happy relationship if you can't even be honest with yourself?"

"I-I don't know..."

"Well then, tell me you love him!" Francis finally exclaimed, the tone of his voice finally rising.

Alfred froze for a moment, gulping down. He didn't know what to say. Actually, he did, but he didn't know if it would come out right if he did. But, he figured that since his entire life was a gamble... he may as well take the risk.

"I-I do..." he whispered.

"Come on, boy, you don't seem very convinced, so tell me. Do you or do you not love Arthur?" Francis asked again, putting his coffee cup down and glaring at Alfred.

"I do!" Alfred protested, wondering if he was doing something wrong.

"And you don't have the courage to say his name!" Francis shut him up for a moment there. "You are afraid, afraid of making mistakes, and afraid of commitment. Do you expect happiness with an attitude like that?" he leaned back into his chair. "Arthur is my greatest friend and a powerful ally. I won't let you hurt him with your indecisiveness. How do you expect to give him what he needs if you don't even know what you want?"

"B-but I-"

"Stop being afraid!" Francis cut him off dryly. "Fear will bring you nothing! Do you want to hurt yourself, and do you want to hurt Arthur?"

"No, but-"

"Then stop being afraid of making mistakes." Francis calmed down a little, and bore his eyes into Alfred's. "Now lift you head, straighten your back and tell me you love him."

"I do." Alfred nodded, biting his lip, and slowly realizing the truth in Francis' words. "I do love him." He finally lifted his gaze and glared right back at Francis with enough intensity to match his glare. "I do love Arthur Kirkland, and I do want to make him happy. I do love the Queen of Spades and I do want him to love me back." His eyes flashed. "The greatest of Kings is who he is because he loves his country and his Queen, and damn it to hell, if that's all that it takes, then I'm already the greatest King this country has ever seen! I, both as Alfred F Jones and the King of Spades, adore Arthur Kirkland, my Queen, and nothing- _nothing _will stop me from loving him."

And then, he realized he'd gotten up during his speech and was now panting.

Francis only coolly regarded him for a moment, and then got up, pulling a small pocket knife from his clothes and put it right next to Alfred's hand.

"Then tell him yourself." He merely commented before turning his back and walking off without another word. Heart still thundering, Alfred watched him go, confused, and then picked up the knife, even more confused.

It all became clear to him when, a few seconds after Francis exited the area, Arthur walked in, looking pointedly at his husband.

"How long have you been there?" Alfred's heart got caught in his throat.

"Not long enough." Arthur grumbled, stepping closer and stopping in front of Alfred with his arms crossed. "What have you been doing for so long with the frog?"

"Talking." Alfred mumbled, blushing. Talking about him, and how Alfred needed to grow a pair and tell Arthur how much meaning he gave to his life.

"About what?" Arthur looked suspicious, so Alfred decided to put some distance between them lest he start stuttering again. He got up and rushed over to the railing, leaning on it and looking out towards the gorgeous sunset.

"Stuff." He just answered, freezing when he felt Arthur stepping to stand right behind him.

"Knowing him, it was something perverted. Did he... try anything?" the last part was softer than the rest.

"N-No." Alfred whirled around, eyes wide, horrified that Arthur would even believe he'd do that to him.

"Then what the hell have you been doing alone together for the past 10 minutes?" Arthur demanded.

The insistent tone of his voice ticked Alfred off, and he couldn't help himself. In a second, he was by Arthur's side, grabbing him tightly by the arms.

"A-Alfred!" Arthur jumped, struggling. "Alfred, what are you doing?" he looked up, panic clear in his eyes.

"Arthur..." Alfred breathed his name like it were holy. His husband looked breathtaking, hair disheveled from his walk through the hedges and the dying sun casting an ethereal glow across his wide, bright eyes.

And suddenly, Alfred hugged him tightly against his chest.

"W-What the hell do you think you're doing?" Arthur immediately protested, struggling even harder.

"Arthur, stop." Alfred whispered in his ear, making the latter shiver and cease his movements.

"Why?" he merely asked softly. "Why are you doing this?"

Alfred hugged him for another second, and then let him go, immediately turning around and heading right back to the railing.

"Arthur, do you remember what you said last night?" he switched subjects, gently caressing the lone blue rose, and then flipping his knife open. Behind him, Arthur flinched.

"I..." that was all he'd gotten drunk for. That was all he'd wanted to say. Of course he remembered. He wouldn't have forgiven himself if he hadn't remembered. "Yes..."

"And... you remember what I said after that?" Alfred asked without turning around, busying himself with cutting the blue rose off.

"Y-Yes..." his broken heart would never forget. "T-That you'd believe me if I said it..."

"When you're sober." Alfred completely for him, determined to go through with this. He was ready. All he needed now was Arthur.

"R-Right..." Arthur looked away, fidgeting nervously.

"So?" Alfred prompted, unwilling to let him go. His fingers worked furiously to cut off the thorns that were pricking his hands and colouring his bare skin a bright red.

"I-" he did, he did want to say it again. It was all he'd wanted. But Alfred had never said he reciprocated the feeling. He'd just said that he'd acknowledge it. Arthur didn't want to feel alienated. Rejection would completely destroy him. Arthur was afraid. Very very afraid.

"Or did everything we've done mean nothing to you?" Alfred tried again, shaking at the idea that Arthur's confession had been a drunken impulse, a lie, a slip of the tongue. Untrue. False hope.

"N-No, that's not it!" Arthur immediately protested, taking a step forward, and then freezing up again. "I... I meant it... I meant everything I said..." he broke out into a bright blush, embarrassed.

"Then tell me again. Surely you can do that." Alfred pushed on, running a bloody index finger on the now-smooth stem of the blue rose.

"It's not that easy..." Arthur mumbled unclearly, wringing his hands together. "I want to tell you, but didn't you think there's a reason why I had to get so smashed before being able to say anything?"

"So you can't face me and tell me you love me, is that it?" Alfred snapped right back, making Arthur step back a bit in shock. The former quickly relaxed, though, noticing that his stance was making his husband uncomfortable.

"No... No, I can... I just..." Afraid. Very very afraid,

"What are you afraid of?" Alfred asked again, a bit quieter, as he took a few steps forward. "Is it because of me?" his grip tightened on the delicate blue flower.

Arthur looked up at him, not knowing what to say. Yes, yes it was because of him, and his reaction if Arthur repeated what he had to say. It couldn't be that bad, he convinced himself, since Alfred hadn't completely pushed Arthur away since last night, and, well... That had to count for something, right?

...Right?

"Arthur, tell me!" Alfred pressured even more, stepping up until he was practically pressed against Arthur. "What the hell are you so afraid of?"

Arthur registered that he was shaking, hands clutching at his clothes over his heart. Something was pricking at his eyes- tears? Of sadness? Fear? Frustration?

"Please don't hurt me." He finally whispered, his voice breaking. "I don't care if anybody else in the world beats me within an inch of my life or rips my heart out and squashes it with their bare hands, but just... I don't think I could take it if you ever hurt me." He was talking nonsense- _stop talking, Arthur!_- but he couldn't stop_- just stop before it gets worse!_-. It was like a long-hidden truth was coming out- _never show fear, never lose composure!_- and Arthur was powerless to stop it- _and weakness is why you are so broken_-.

Alfred didn't reply, giving him some time. His heart was fluttering as he took in Arthur's words. Fluttering in joy or nervousness, he didn't even know himself.

"Please forgive my weakness, Alfred... I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I was ever hurt by you. God, I'm afraid of telling you how perfect you are and how madly I've fallen for you, because I'm afraid." Arthur choked, his words caught up in his throat. His eyes were burning as he struggled to keep the tears in. "If you say no, I'll die." When did he fall so hard? He'd stopped making sense a long time ago. "God, I love you, I love you so much." He finally whispered, not trusting his tone to go higher. "And I don't know what I would do without you."

And when Alfred drew him closer and pressed his face against his chest, Arthur felt something cold on his cheeks. For how long had he been crying?

"I wouldn't dream of saying no to you." Alfred whispered into his hair. "Look at what you do to me. I'm incoherent without you, baby." He added, pushing Arthur back just a little, and taking his hands in his own. He then gently slipped the thornless blue rose in his hands and squeezed them together, leaning in for a kiss.

Arthur didn't resist and immediately gave into him, pushing up against him in a desperate attempt to get closer. Alfred had said yes. Alfred has returned his love. Nothing else mattered.

Slowly, they moved. Alfred put one of his hands on the small of Arthur's back and tangled the other in the hair on the back of his neck. Arthur looped his arms loosely around Alfred's neck and let his weight drop into Alfred's arms. They only briefly parted for air, but both of them knew that it wasn't enough- that it would never be enough.

"I love you." Alfred whispered after he caught his breath. "And I don't ever want to let you go."

"I wouldn't have let you." Arthur grumbled in return, putting his forehead against Alfred's and looking down at the rose. "It's gorgeous."

"Yeah." Alfred replied without skipping a beat, not detaching his eyes from Arthur's tear-riddled face. "Yeah, it is."

"You didn't have to cut yourself for me..." Arthur continued, gently taking Alfred's hands to inspect the small cuts on his fingers.

"I made an angel cry." Alfred leaned in and kissed one of the tears that had stopped in its tracks on Arthur's cheek. "Let my blood pay for my sins."

"God, have you been reading up on your poetry?" Arthur couldn't help but be impressed. "Or have you been preparing this since this morning?"

"Nah, I'm just inspired." Alfred broke out into a small grin, pecking Arthur on the lips.

Locked in their embrace, they didn't notice when the hedges ruffled again, this time letting two blond heads poke in.

"S-Should we announce our imminent departure?" The Queen of Diamonds softly whispered to her husband as she watched the couple embrace.

"No, it's alright." Francis shook his head, fondly looking at them as a smirk tugged at his lips. "I'm just glad it worked out. Come, my sweet. Our carriage awaits."

"Right." The blonde nodded and threw the couple one last furtive glance before following her husband right back the way they came.

The Spades royals did not notice the interruption, and once they'd parted for breath, they enlaced one another in a warm hug instead. The wind blew, cherry blossom petals floating atop their heads, the light of the sunset blinding them as their silhouettes cut dark, melting shapes in the orange canvas sinking on the horizon behind them.

"You're so perfect." Alfred hummed lightly, running his hands up and down Arthur's back.

"Far from it, love." Alfred would never know of his deeper flaws. Or at least, Arthur told himself that. There would be a time when they'd have to sit down and open themselves completely to one another. Now was not that time, though. Too soon. Way too soon. Letting Alfred discover him inside out was not a matter he could rush into while drunk. He'd made a mistake once, he wouldn't make it again.

Mistake...

"Alfred, may I ask you something?" Arthur felt his throat clog as he gently pushed his husband away and looked up worriedly at him.

"Is something wrong?" Alfred noticed the blatant hesitation in his eyes. It was obvious, even for someone as oblivious as him.

"Last night..." he couldn't help but turn his eyes away, embarrassed. "Were you... you know..." God, he couldn't say it.

"What?" Alfred cocked his head, now worried as well. Why was Arthur getting so worked up? Had Alfred forgotten to do something important? Had he messed up?

"D-Don't make me say it!" Arthur stuttered, a heavy blush creeping onto his face.

"Say what?" Alfred asked again, gently grabbing and rubbing comforting circles into Arthur's upper arms.

"S-Shut up, you embarrassing git! I-I was asking whether or not I was your first!" Arthur blurted out, not daring to look up at Alfred.

"My first?" Alfred blinked, worry evaporating off of him instantly. Was that all? That was no big deal. Arthur didn't seem relieved though. "Yeah, of course you were." He answered, dragging Arthur back in his embrace and kissing the top of his head lightly.

Arthur's eyes widened, and guilt raged through his veins. Alfred's first. He'd been Alfred's first. Of all the people to take beautiful, wonderful, perfect Alfred's virginity... it had been him.

"I'm sorry..." he muttered, absolutely ashamed of himself. And it had been a drunken, haphazard thing. Alfred deserved better than that. He deserved so much better than Arthur, who needed to get drunk to spill his feelings, Arthur, who would keep biting at him for no reason at all, Arthur, who was hurting him every single day, Arthur, who had so carelessly taken his virtue because he was desperate to get his message across.

How much is the worth of an 'I love you'?

"Don't apologize..." Alfred protested softly, not understanding what he was apologizing for.

"That was completely irresponsible, rash, and uncalled for." Not to mention of dubious consent. If he remembered right, he'd been the one to initiate contact, and he was the one who kept asking Alfred for more. It was his fault. It was all his fault. "Nothing I do can make up for what I've taken and what you've lost... Forgive me..."

"What I've... lost?" Alfred finally put two and two together, and a bright blush erupted on his face immediately. Of all the things to talk about. "A-Arthur, it's fine!"

"It's not." Arthur immediately cut in, shaking his head and not daring to look up at Alfred. "Please don't hate me." Not when everything was going so well.

"God, Arthur, calm down." Alfred kissed his forehead and tilted his face so he could look into his eyes. "Calm down, babe." He repeated in a whisper, and pecked him on the lips. "I wouldn't have given it to anyone else. Don't apologize. You're the only one that I want and... The only thing I regret about last night is not remembering the details of your face, of your voice, of your hands on my back and your body under mine."

Oh good god, Arthur was getting hot again just by listening to him speak.

"What have I done to deserve someone like you?" the Queen of Spades whispered, gently cupping his King's face and giving him a kiss. "I must be blessed."

"Like I said before." Alfred chuckled and drew away to take his hand. "You're an angel. And now, you're mine." He announced before tugging him away, towards the hedges.

"I've always been yours..." Arthur smiled fondly, but didn't comment further. Thornless blue rose still clutched in his other hand, he followed Alfred as they headed out of their little sanctuary, leaving the cherry blossom petals to flutter down and land in the cups of cold coffee on the table.

"Where are we going?" Arthur finally asked once they started ducking under branches and vines again.

"Back. I think it's time we rejoined our guests. It was rude of us to leave them in the first place." That, and he had to thank Francis. Without him, he wouldn't have been able to face Arthur like he did.

"Oh... I see." Arthur nodded silently, and didn't speak again until they emerged from the hedges and stepped back where they'd started. Matthew was already there, picking up a cup from the vine-woven table by the small pond.

"Hey, Mattie! Where's Francis?" Alfred called to his twin, looking around and noticing that they were alone.

"Oh, The King and Queen of Diamonds have already taken their leave." Matthew softly replied, bowing lightly. He still hadn't gotten used to Arthur, mostly, so he always felt compelled to bow to him. "Their carriage arrived a few moments ago. I was under the impression that they'd left to warn you of their departure, but perhaps they thought against it..."

"Right." Alfred nodded, and did the math. If they had left a couple of minutes ago, their carriage awaiting at the front gates, and they had to go through the castle to get there... "Damn it. I've got to run! Thanks, Matt!" and without warning, he let go of Arthur's hand, and bolted off towards the gardens again.

"A-Alfred!" Arthur immediately called after him, confused. "What are you doing, you bloody idiot?" and without wasting another moment, he ran after him.

Matthew just watched them disappear behind some bushes, and only allowed himself to chuckle softly once they had disappeared.

Alfred ran without stopping, ducking low under tree branches and sidestepping flower beds as he rushed through the gardens. Arthur followed him, though the gap between them was getting larger and larger as Alfred put his cardio to good use, and Arthur suffered from a lack thereof. Wind and leaves were whipping at both their faces, but thankfully, they weren't wearing loose clothing, so none of them got caught in their race.

Alfred, of course, was the first to emerge from the vegetation, jumping out onto the dirt path that led to and from the castle. He took a moment to look around, and spotted Francis' carriage, heading off towards the town, from where they would exit the area via the drawbridge.

"Francis!" he called, breaking into a run again, despite his heart thundering and his breath coming out in short gasps. "Francis!"

But the carriage did not stop. Alfred ran until his legs burned, but he never did catch up. When he was forced to concede defeat, though, he took a second to catch his breath, and then cupped his hands around his mouth to scream.

"FRANCIS! THANK YOU!"

And when he started waving with both arms and panted to stabilize his breathing, he was grinning wide like an idiot.

From inside the carriage, Francis smiled lightly, and checked in the rearview mirror they had right outside the cabin. In the distance, he could see Alfred waving at their carriage, Arthur arriving next to him and obviously berating him about something. The King of Diamonds watched them for another moment, amused, and then sighed softly, turning his eyes to the young girl falling asleep against his shoulder.

"Love really is beautiful." He remarked sadly, gazing at her still figure. "You and I, we'll both find it someday." He added, winding an arm around her.

"Say s'mething, Francis?" Lili breathed in her half-asleep daze.

"Nothing, _ma chérie_." Francis shook his head, smiling down at her. "_Dors, la route est longue_."

"Right... Thank you..." she yawned and made herself comfortable against him.

"Not at all, _ma petite fleur_." The King of Diamonds craned his neck and gently pressed a kiss to his Queen's head, then turned his head to look at the horizon, where the blazing sun had halfway disappeared. _"En fin de compte, le futur appartient à ceux qui rêvent."_

_...OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO..._

Holding hands up on the balcony, the royal couple of Spades watched as, on the dirt path below, the Hearts carriage rolled off towards town, taking in it the King and Queen of the nation that would fight alongside them when the time came. The sun had now set entirely, and as it sunk beneath the horizon, tiredness crashed down upon the couple. Now that everything had finally settled down, they realized how much the day's many events had tired them.

"I think we should go to bed early." Arthur voiced their common desire out loud, turning to Alfred as if searching for approbation.

"Sure. Sounds good." The latter just nodded, yawning. His limbs felt heavy already, so he saw no harm in indulging himself. "And when we're all rested and ready to go... I want to take you somewhere." He smiled to Arthur, his eyes twinkling. "Like... the beach, for example. Just you and I."

"The beach...?" Arthur raised a brow, puzzled. "Why? We're already married and in love, you don't need to court me, you know."

"Yeah, I know." The younger chuckled, as if knowing something Arthur didn't. "But... you know, we've been doing everything in reverse..." he turned his eyes to the horizon and sighed. "Marriage, consummation, falling in love..." he turned right back to Arthur and leaned over to give him a kiss on the cheek. "If we're gonna do it in reverse, I want to do it all anyway."

"You're too idealistic." Arthur shook his head morosely. "Alfred, we've got a war on our hands. We won't have time for any escapades like that."

"And you're too pessimistic." Alfred bumped him with his shoulder. "We'll make time."

And Arthur may or may not have found him incredibly sweet for saying that.

"Unfortunately, that's only in an ideal world." Arthur looked up at Alfred. "We're the King and Queen of Spades. We live for the country before ourselves. Our nation needs us."

"Maybe so, but how can we make choices for our nation when we don't even give ourselves the opportunity of choices?" Alfred hummed, as if he'd been thinking about it for a while now.

Arthur could not find anything to go against his statement, so he looked away and smiled softly to himself. Watching him look away, Alfred could only guess what he was hiding, and grinned brightly in return.

Not wanting to waste any more time, he turned around and gently dragged Arthur back inside, closing the sliding glass door to the balcony and immediately heading for bed. Arthur, though, seemed to catch on pretty quickly, and planted his feet stubbornly before Alfred could reach the bed.

"Oh no, you're not going to bed without a bath first." He protested. "You're filthy!"

"Yeah, well, so are you, then." Alfred pouted. "Come on, we'll be dirty, just for tonight." Arthur blushed at the second implications, but decided against giving Alfred the satisfaction of getting irritated.

"I refuse to share a bed with you if you're going to smell so bad." He added, watching as Alfred frowned and squeezed his hand.

"You... Really think I'm that repulsive?" he asked softly.

"W-Well, right now, yes! You're sweaty and dirty. And your hair looks greasy." Arthur stuttered, not wanting to make Alfred feel so rejected, but not wanting to admit defeat, either.

"You're rude." Alfred just pouted, and suddenly changed his course, going for the bathroom while still dragging Arthur behind him. "Fine. We'll take a quick bath." He decided, opening the door and stepping inside. "But since we're both so tired, let's take it together. We can get to bed sooner that way."

"W-What?" Arthur immediately went red, struggling to get out of Alfred's grip. "N-No! I will not share a bath with you!" he pulled his hand out of Alfred's and stepped back, but by that time, his husband had already locked the door.

"Come on, Artie, lighten up! It's not like we haven't seen it all before anyway." Alfred chuckled, starting to get rid of his clothing.

"W-What are you doing?" Arthur's face went even redder than before. "T-That doesn't mean we can just g-get naked whenever we want!"

"Gosh, calm your tits, Queenie. We can keep our underwear, can't we?" Alfred rolled his eyes, throwing his shirt off. "Now get out of those clothes. The faster we're done, the faster we can go to bed." He then headed to the bathtub and turned the knobs to make the water start flowing (he'd never get over the technology inside the castle).

Arthur was just about to yell right back at him, and then he realized that he did indeed need a bath, and sleep. And yet he didn't want to admit defeat.

"F-Fine!" he huffed, starting to pull his clothes off. "But just because I enjoy being clean, and I want to get to bed soon!"

"I'm not asking any more, or any less of you." Alfred hummed softly, making sure the water temperature was right before starting to shrug out of his pants.

They ended up in the water a few minutes later, wearing nothing but their underwear. And only when Arthur had settled himself in Alfred's lap and that Alfred had leaned his back against the sides of the tub that they both silently admitted that a bath had been a good idea.

"We should clean up..." Arthur mumbled softly, closing his eyes and putting his head against Alfred's chest tiredly.

"Yeah, we should..." It was at times like these that Alfred wished there were maids to clean them instead, but... no, even then, that would be very awkward. They could clean themselves in any instance. Of course, it'd be a lot easier if they weren't so tired. Alfred looked down and noted how Arthur was leaning against him, expression serene, and eyes closed. He was falling asleep, and quickly, and as much as he loved their position right now, Alfred wanted to slip into bed as soon as he could.

Leaning over, he grabbed the shampoo and squeezed some on his hand. Without prior warning, he then put his hands into Arthur's wet hair and started scrubbing. Arthur started with a jolt at the contact, and looked up at him, confused.

"Alfred, what are you-"

"Hush, Artie. Can't you see I'm busy cleaning you up?" Alfred chuckled softly.

"Well, ermmm... the gesture is appreciated, but... why?" Arthur asked, just not understanding why Alfred was bothering.

"You looked like you were about to fall asleep." The King laughed, before sobering up again and looking at his Queen with adoring eyes. "Besides... I've already got your heart, so now I want to get to know the rest of you."

Arthur lost any sense of coherence right then, and only spluttered in embarrassment, blushing and straightening so that Alfred wouldn't see how emotional he was getting. This boy... really was something else.

Once they were both clean (the water had long gone cold...), they got dressed, and immediately stumbled to bed, falling down on it in a similar fashion to the night before. Except this time, once their heartbeats had settled and only the silence of the night filtered through their ears, Alfred dragged Arthur into his arms, noting how he'd already almost fallen asleep, and held him protectively as he pulled the blankets up. He then kissed the tip of his nose, causing Arthur's eyelids to slide open slightly, just enough to glare at him.

"Sorry, Queenie." Alfred chuckled. "I just wanted to tell you how much I loved you. Sweet dreams."

Arthur looked at him for just another second, and then, a garbled, grumbled 'idiot. 'night' came from him as he slipped his eyelids shut again.

Alfred just laughed and kissed his forehead, caressing his wet hair until his limbs turned to lead, and he, too, surrendered to sleep.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

**Shut up. I can make this chapter as horrible as I want. Rewrites are the devil :I**

**Translations (French):**

**"Jaloux?": Jealous?**

**"Mon Dieu!": My God!**

**"Merveilleux.": Marvellous**

**"Merci beaucoup": Thank you very much.**

**"I'l n'y a pas de quoi": You're welcome.**

**"ma chérie": my dear**

**"Dors, la route est longue": Sleep, it'll be a long way home. (literally: "Sleep, the road is long")**

**"ma petite fleur": my little flower**

**"En fin de compte, le futur appartient à ceux qui rêvent.": After all, the future belongs to those that dream .**

**Alright so I kinda rushed across the editing to get you this, because if I didn't get it out today, I would have to get it out on Monday, and, well, fuck that. Anyways, like I said, I still have a bit of chapter 12 to rewrite as well, so unfortunately, the next update will be slightly late as well.**

**(The ideas in this chapter were really messy and disorganized, I just realized. I'm really sorry, everyone D: )**

**Anyways, please be kind enough to review anyway? I know this is far from the best thing I've ever written, but... try to understand. I rrrrreally don't enjoy rewrites.**


	12. Ultramarine

**Author's Notes**

**Holy wow, how long has it been? Way too long. I'm the only one to blame, sorry guys. Must I really give you the usual list of reasons why I was late? Didn't think so. They're all invalid, anyways :'D I SHOULD BE ASHAMED.**

**As usual, I want to hug and cuddle my beautiful readers and reviewers. I didn't reply to the reviews posted for the last chapter because I couldn't find the time and just put them off until a time when replying to them wouldn't make much sense. Please, though, don't ever think that your reviews are meaningless. I appreciate every single one of them very much, and I love you all for supporting me so readily. You guys deserve so much more than late, crappy chapters xD**

**HUGE APPLAUSE AND HUGS AND POTATOES TO Anne Fatalism Dilettante, Firebornfox, HamburgerWithTea, Canada Cowboy, Lirumi, MissFr34k, bobness, mlpnkobnhjui, ZhangArronXun, Banboorain, Waytomuchadoaboutnothing, Myjen123, Ember Hinote and FOR THEIR GLORIOUS AND AMAZING REVIEWS. Seriously guys. I know I've said it a billion times, but I wouldn't be anywhere without you ^^**

**Also, the original chapter 12 was about... 13 000 words long. But I personally hate late chapters that are huge in length, so I figured I'd just cut it in half. I'll post the second half, so chapter 13, when I'm halfway done with chapter 14. Sorry everyone ;w; **

**Fun fact: 95 percent of this chapter and chapter 13 was written on my Ipod touch when I was riding the metro to and from school, and copy-pasted onto FFN later on. So if you see any spelling mistakes or redundancy or formatting problems... Please tell me xD I proofread, but I am only human :'D**

**And please try to enjoy ;w; Not my best work, again, but I'm just waiting for this writer's block to pass! X(**

* * *

Things got even more tense during the weeks that followed. It was the threat of a surprise invasion that was keeping both the inhabitants and the monarchy of Spades on edge at all times and their only hope lied with the army they'd sent to the border since what seemed like forever. Time does drag on forever when you don't know if you'll live or die the next day.

The monarchy was, of course, far from exempted from this. Not only the tactical meetings, but also the everyday issues such as a new aqueduct for the Seventh District and the bridge repairs between the Tenth and the outside of the city, were the causes of many sleepless nights for the King, Queen and Jack. Things escalated to the point where all three of them were isolated in their offices to work from early morning to late night, the occasional meeting bringing them together before they had to go back to being alone. Often, the King or Queen either got to bed after the other fell asleep, or simply fell asleep at his desk instead.

This war was hurting everybody, and not just on a professional level.

Rarely did the Royals have time to themselves anymore. When they did finish early, the first reflex was to go catch up on lost sleep. It was tough, not being able to be as they were before, especially since it had become so well between Alfred and Arthur lately.

That being said, it never meant they didn't grasp the small opportunities that life handed to them.

"I didn't know you were so well-versed in astronomy." Arthur's mumbled comment disrupted the silence in the air, causing Alfred to turn his head to him and give him a sleepy smile.

"Oh yeah, it's probably the only subject that interested me in my entire education." Alfred chuckled.

"Knowing the name of stars won't help you run a country, though." Arthur protested half-heartedly.

"But the day we get lost in the woods, I'll orientate us." The King laughed softly.

"I don't think we'll have time to explore any woods any time soon." Arthur shook his head before turning his eyes back to the sky. "We barely even have enough time to stargaze on the roof, so I wouldn't get my hopes up for any expeditions into the woods."

"But we're still doing things like this, aren't we?" Alfred smiled, undeterred. "It's the first time in a long while we've had the chance to do this kind of activity, but still, here we are."

"I guess that's good enough for now." The Queen mumbled before turning to his husband and gazing into his eyes, and noticing that life still sparkled in the deep blue despite the veil of fatigue. Laying under the darkest of skies, Alfred's eyes were like a beacon of light.

Arthur couldn't help himself. He closed his eyes and leaned into the short gap between them and kissed him softly, just once, before pulling back to admire how a golden smile extended across his face.

"You're just so cute sometimes, you know that?" Alfred chuckled.

"Shut up, 'm not cute..." his Queen muttered in return, blushing.

Alfred only laughed and turned his head up to watch the stars again.

"Look, Arthur." he whispered, pointing up at the cluster of stars. "That's the Britannia constellation, right there. See how it looks like a lion?"

"I cannot undertand how you see a lion within random dots in the sky." Arthur admitted.

"Come on, look. The tail is over there, and those stars link the mane to the head, and then the powerful jaw open in an eternal roar." Alfred traced an invisible line with his finger, one that Arthur's eyes followed without much comprehension. "As you've guessed, it's in the honour of Britannia, god of power."

"I have yet to see it." Arthur grumbled.

"Alright, alright. Try to spot the Americana constellation, then. It's always right next to the Britannia constellation, so you can easily find it. It looks like an eagle, with that really bright star over there being the tip of its right wing. The beak is the first one of the three really close stars there."

"I..." Arthur furrowed his eyebrows and tried to work his imagination. "I think I do see it... The tip of the left wing is that star surrounded by all the others, right?"

"Right! And that same star is the Britannia constellation's tail tip!" Alfred grinned. "You're getting better."

"Hmm, no... It's just that the Americana constellation is a lot brighter than the Britannia one."

"Well, the Britannia constellation is made of many old stars and Americana is relatively new. That's why they're named like that: in the honour of the gods of power and freedom." Alfred stated gleefully, glad to be aware of the fact that he knew something Arthur didn't.

"Oh great, now you're tying mythology into it, too." Arthur groaned. "I've never excelled at that, either."

"It's okay. I'll teach you things and you teach me things. We complete each other, see?" Alfred laughed and pecked Arthur's cheek before turning back to the stars. "So the two constellations are named after their respective gods and tell a story. Their story."

"If I'm not mistaken, Britannia was the god of power and desired to have everything for himself... He used his power to create kings and kingdoms and the concept of war and conquest. Hungry for more, he went on, creating the concept of empires and absolutism, dictatorship, and us humans, confused by all these new concepts, started slaughtering one another in an effort to become powerful."

"Right, and that's why the other gods created Americana, in an effort to restore Britannia's humanity. It worked. The god of freedom looked like a little kid, and Britannia got attached to him very quickly. His destructive desire lessened, and he coddled the god a lot. A little too much, and since Americana was an actual god having assumed the shape of a kid, and did not want to be so repressed. As his name suggested, he took his freedom from Britannia and left the other god crushed."

"Idiot." Arthur mumbled.

"Nah, he just wanted his freedom. You gotta understand the guy." Alfred defended. "But it's said that once every year, the stars of the Britannia constellation dim, and the Americana constellation's shine brighter than ever. On that day, Britannia mourns what Americana celebrates. But it's okay, because see?" Alfred pointed at the star the two constellations shared. "They're always together anyway."

"The gods of power and freedom, always together, huh?" Arthur mused out loud. "With both power and freedom comes responsibility."

"Which is why they're still watching over us today." Alfred replied softly. "Hell, I bet they're gazing down on us right now and arguing on which ones of us is right."

"That's a nice thought, the gods fighting about us." Arthur chuckled lowly. "It's a lovely story, even though I'm not one for mythology."

"It's your fault we got into it. I was just pointing out stars, y'know." Alfred laughed in return.

"Right, right, Mr Know-It-All." Arthur chuckled and pointed at a light flickering by the horizon. "And which star is that? It's awfully low in the sky, though I can't really see the distinction between sky and land.

"What are you talking about?" Alfred inquired, puzzled.

"That one." Arthur pointed to the bright dot on the horizon, dragging Alfred's attention to it.

"That light is a bit too close and strong to be a star." Alfred remarked. "Unless a new one was just born without us knowing about it."

"But if it's not a star, then what is it?" Arthur furrowed his eyebrows. "It can't be a city light since the entire city is under blackout orders to avoid night time attacks... And anyways, the city doesn't even reach that far. If you squint, you can see the ramparts over there." he pointed much lower, closer to them.

"I dunno, but... It's flickering. And it looks like... It's getting closer?" Alfred pushed himself up into a sitting position, followed by Arthur. "What is it?"

"Wait. " Arthur twisted around to grab one of the binoculars they'd brought with them but had set aside when the night had turned out to be clear enough. He put them up to his eyes and adjusted the focus until he could zoom in on the light.

It was bright and blinding for a second, and Arthur winced as his retinas burned, unaccustomed to such light.

"What is it?" Alfred repeated, a bit more hushed.

"I don't know. It's too bright. It looks like..." Arthur bit his lip and observed the rapidly approaching flicker for just a second longer. "... Fire. A torch?"

"A torch? Is it a messenger of some sort?" Alfred raised a brow, putting his hand out. "Let me see."

Arthur wordlessly handed Alfred the binoculars, his eyes never leaving the moving torch. It wasn't far from the ramparts now, and it was moving very quickly for a messenger on foot. A horse, perhaps?

"Arthur, it's a person." Alfred quickly announced the obvious. "By the way he's moving, I think he's on a horse... He's getting closer, too." Alfred then went silent for a long while, and Arthur's throat locked nervously.

Finally, Alfred put the binoculars down and turned to look at Arthur, his eyes wide.

"It's one of the generals stationed with the army. He's hurt."

"What?" Arthur's heart skipped a beat, and he turned his eyes back down to the small moving dot. His brain whirred, trying to understand what was happening and what could have happened as his eyes frantically surveyed the wide, empty field for clues.

And then he noticed it wasn't so empty.

Quickly snatching the binoculars from his husband, Arthur pointed them at the horizon, where a dark, large mass was steadily advancing towards them. It was too dark and the mass was too far to be identified, but it definitely was not a good sign.

"Alfred, what is that on the horizon?" Arthur stuttered, turning to look questioningly at his husband. "It's moving towards us and it's huge."

And Alfred only had to throw a look in the direction Arthur had given him to see what he was talking about. It wasn't easy to miss. And yet he had no idea what it was, either.

"Do you think it's people?" he suggested, unsure.

"Only people could move in such an organized and tight formation. Also, they seem to be coming from the same direction as the general that rode here." There was a moment of silence.

Neither of them were stupid, though, and their faces blanched as they came to the same conclusion almost simultaneously.

"Clubs army?" Alfred stuttered first.

"I think that's the most logical response." Arthur was frozen in apprehension. Clubs was right at the horizon, and of course, they had not come to settle a peace treaty.

Arthur's eyes trailed down to where the light traveled, alone, in the blacked-out city, and something suddenly struck him. Something that froze his blood in his veins and prompted him to get up all of a sudden. This alerted Alfred, who grabbed his wrist immediately and pulled him down.

"Arthur, what are you doing? It's too dangerous to stand up on an angled surface like the roof!" he protested, and stopped when he saw the haunted look in his Queen's eyes. "Arthur?"

"There are no lights down in the barracks." he whispered in a trembling voice, looking at Alfred desperately. The weight of what that meant crashed on both of them almost instantly and it was now Arthur's turn to tug Alfred. "Get up! Quickly! It's a surprise attack, the Ace doesn't know they're here!"

Alfred's throat locked as he tried to utter out something semi-constructive but did not manage a single sound. Knowing that standing there would do no good, though, he did get on his knees, following Arthur.

The Queen of Spades, once having made sure the King was following, crawled to the very edge of the roof where a handle had been carved out like a protrusion. Grabbing the handle with both hands, he switched positions so his back faced the fall and he put his knees on either side of the handle. Then, he put all his upper body weight against the roof and dropped his lower body off the roof, slowly easing himself down until he was dangling in midair, the three-story fall looming below him. Giving himself a swing, he then easily reached the windowsill to their room with his feet, and once his feet were steady, he transferred his hands one by one from the handle to the top of the window frame, stepping inside the room without a problem.

He only had to wait briefly for Alfred to swing in after him, as practice had made the movement all but a reflex to both of them. They didn't speak, though, saving their breath for running. And indeed, they ran, tearing down the dark hallways of the castle, intimidated by the silence that reigned supreme. It felt like nothing was out of the ordinary. As if the danger was not imminent.

As if an entire army wasn't currently heading towards them with the intent to kill.

Arthur and Alfred took the stairs two by two as they made their way downstairs. Once on the main floor, they turned and ran towards the front gates, where they were sure the action would be happening. Indeed, as they got closer to the main hall, voices started to be heard. They knew they'd hit jackpot when the Jack came within sight, discussing with the Ace.

"Your Majesties!" Yao called as he spotted them. "Bad news-"

"The Clubs army is heading towards us as we speak, we know, now where is the General?" Arthur cut him off.

"Outside. The physicians are being called as we speak but he is very hurt-" Yao didn't seem fazed by the fact that they already knew, and did not react when he was cut off again.

"Alfred, quickly!" Arthur motioned, and without waiting, broke into a run again, this time towards the front entrance that had been opened already.

"Thanks." Alfred barely had time for common courtesy as Arthur had already gotten far in front of him. He ran after him and only caught up once they made their way down the dirt path leading to the gate. There were already a few soldiers there, kneeling next to a figure on the ground.

Arthur practically threw himself on the ground once he neared him, skidding in the dirt for a second before immediately putting his ear against his mouth to check his breathing.

"When did he arrive?" he demanded from the shocked soldiers, checking for a pulse as well.

"Two minutes ago, your Highness." one of them replied, watching in surprise as Arthur tore the navy blue army uniform the man was wearing, exposing a bleeding gash in his side.

"Fuck." the Queen swore, looking around. "Where are the physicians?"

"We sent for them as soon as he arrived." the same guard mumbled.

"God, what's taking so long?"

"Arthur, is he going to be okay?" Alfred finally spoke up, his face white as he looked as the bleeding injury.

"If only the physicians got here faster." Arthur avoided the question, taking a split-second decision and taking his overshirt off to press it against the wound in an effort to staunch the blood flow. Dealing with an infection would be better than letting him die.

The General finally reacted to that, his back arching in pain and a weak cry leaving his lips.

"General, speak to us. What happened?" Arthur demanded, scrutinizing the older man's face.

"The Clubs army..." the man wheezed. "They've been keeping me captive for a month now... They slaughtered our troops the day they were sent out."

"All of them?" Alfred blanched.

"Everyone except me." the old man turned his eyes to Alfred, pride shining in his eyes. Alfred felt sick.

"But the reports!" Arthur argued, his hands stained with blood as he pressed harder on the injury.

"Fake. They made me sign fake reports while they made their preparations to attack." the General coughed and went still for a moment.

"Breathe, breathe!" Arthur demanded, hysteria creeping into his voice. "Fuck, where are the bloody physicians?"

"It's alright, your Majesties." the General mumbled, blood making his words sound like a gurgle. "The old must leave to the young their throne one day."

"Not today." Arthur shook his head. "You won't die today."

"It was an honour serving you both, Majesties." the man went on, ignoring Arthur's adamant claim. "I wouldn't have asked for better."

"Stop, that's an order!" Arthur tried one last time, practically begging him to stay alive. Everybody, though, knew that it was a lost cause.

"You'll be amazing rulers for Spades, I know it." he looked at Arthur and attempted a bloody smile. He then turned his head to Alfred, who was still standing, frozen in shock and grief, and visibly made great effort to grin. "I have no doubt about it."

At that moment, Alfred realized it was time to live up to the expectations. People believed in them. People believed they would save them. And it was time to show them they were right.

"Arthur, let him go." as much as it hurt him to let a good man die, there was nothing he or Arthur or even the physicians could do.

"Alfred..." Arthur looked up to him, desperation shining in his eyes. Desperate not to let this happen, desperate to be told that this was not happening. But Alfred couldn't lie to him, and Arthur knew he shouldn't lie to himself either.

"Arthur, we have to go." Alfred nodded solemnly, looking away from the dying General, unable to bear the thought that he'd let a man die, and a man that believed in them, too. Still, one of the first rules of being a good monarch was to know how to set priorities, and right now, their people were their priority.

He threw his Queen a look, and the Queen understood everything he hadn't said.

"Thank you for everything, General." Arthur whispered in a hushed voice before slowly getting up. Alfred gave him a few seconds, knowing that Arthur had known this man a lot longer than he had, but then stepped forward and put a hand on Arthur's shoulder, unwilling to touch his bloodied hands.

He didn't have to say anything for Arthur to slip behind his mask of cold authority again, and watched as the man who'd been so painfully human before him right then turned into a machine again.

"I want only two of you here with him until the physicians arrive. The rest of you, inside. The Ace will be giving out orders soon. Move!" he ordered, and almost instantly, the soldiers that had gotten a glimpse of their monarchs' humanity scampered off, armour clinking as they jogged.

"What about us?" Alfred asked once they were gone.

Wiping his hands on his pyjama pants, Arthur threw one last look at the General, who was probably already dead, and clenched his fists.

"We fight."

"Where? Are we actually going down to the battlefield?" Alfred nervously asked, following as Arthur turned tail and stalked towards the castle.

"We have to. The King and Queen must lead their army to victory, that's one of the many things we're expected to do." Arthur told him without flinching, as if the fact that they could possibly be heading towards their deaths was something casual.

"But wouldn't the Ace be supposed to lead the army to battle?" Alfred asked again.

"The Ace makes the tactical decisions from the back line. You know this." Arthur reminded him, and stopped as they reached the foot of the entrance stairs, turning to Alfred. "You've been trained for this day, Alfred. You can fight, I've seen you spar. You'll be alright."

"T-That's not what I'm worried about-" Alfred started protesting, but he had to admit, deep down, that he was indeed scared.

"Alfred." Arthur cut him off, taking his face in his hands and smearing a small quantity of blood on his cheeks. "I won't let you die." he then dragged him close and kissed him softly, breathing against his lips in a way that made Alfred deflate completely. "I swear to you, my King, I won't let you die."

Nodding and taking a shaky breath, Alfred let the taste of Arthur's lips ebb and pulled away from him, nodding again.

"Let's do it."

"There's a good lad." Arthur smiled softly before turning around and taking the steps three by three, followed closely by Alfred. Saving their breath for the run, they made their way to the main hall, where Yao was calling out to various servants, all of whom dodged the occasional troop of soldiers. An air of panic hung above everyone.

"Yao!" Arthur called, stopping next to the Jack.

"Aiyaah, Arthur, Alfred, where have you been?" the harried-looking man cried out as they got close. "The troops are only just getting ready in the barracks. In the meantime, we only have the rampart guards protecting the entrance into the city." he reported.

"Where's the Ace?" Arthur inquired immediately. The rampant guards would not be enough- the poor lads were as good as dead, unfortunately. They needed the army out there in the streets, defending the citizens as soon as possible.

"Meeting with the Generals over a short term attack plan."

"How does it look?" Alfred asked, his first question in a while. He just did not feel like talking, anxiety clogging his throat. Anxiety, and the knowledge that his city, his country was under attack and he had been powerless to prevent it. Some King he turned out to be.

"I won't lie, my King." Yao's eyes were cold, but grieved. "It's a disaster."

"Fuck." Alfred breathed out, biting his lip.

"This is bad, we need to take concrete action." Arthur mimicked Alfred in his gesture, thinking hard. Different solutions were running through his head, though none of them were satisfying. They needed a good plan, and help. Lots of help.

"Help." he muttered out loud as an idea started taking shape in his mind. "Yao, be kind enough to send Alfred's brother to the armoury. That's where we'll be if you need us." he then looked at Alfred, determined. "We have to fight."

"I thought so." Alfred nodded quietly, resolute. "Though what do you want with Mattie?"

"You'll see at the same time as him. Come now." he turned to Yao and nodded solemnly. Yao returned the silent nod and walked away to cater to his orders. Arthur did not waste a second in making his way to his destination as well, Alfred following closely.

"What are we gonna do? We can't fight in the streets, it'll be a civilian massacre!" Alfred protested as they got into a brisk jog towards the armoury.

"We don't have anywhere to evacuate the civilians. The soldiers will know how to steer the fight away from them and the civilians will know to hide in strategic places. Worrying now won't do much for anyone." Arthur replied, taking Alfred through the long-winding hallways of the castle.

"What about the soldiers? How will they be able to fight in such tight alleys and streets? Urban warfare isn't something they've been trained extensively for!" The King raised his voice again.

"Then what do you suggest we do, wait for the army to slaughter us all? You heard what Clubs did to the first thousand men sent to the border: killed them all within the first day and manipulated us for the following month and more. They won't take prisoners, Alfred. The soldiers are our only hope." Arthur quickly explained, frustration slipping into his tone. Alfred just didn't seem to understand that they were at war.

It crossed Arthur's mind that perhaps he was just afraid of death. And then it crossed his mind that he was, too. Everyone in their right mind feared death, and that's what kept them all alive. Despite that fear, they were expected to fight, and so fight they would.

"You need to stop worrying, because a distracted mind will cause your downfall." Arthur berated him, finally stopping in front of a door that was no more ornate than any others in the hallway. Twisting the handle, he gave the oak door a solid push and escorted Alfred into a dark room.

He then grabbed a match and lit it, the glow breaking through the darkness, and illuminating their faces. The room became a lot brighter as Arthur dropped the match into a torch case on the wall, lighting a torch that then, by a thin line connecting it, lit the other one and so on. By the time all the torches had been lit up, Arthur had already advanced for a closet against the wall and had pulled it open, pulling out several leather pads for the chest and arms. He threw a set of padding to Alfred, who caught it with ease and started pulling his pyjamas off until he was in an undershirt and underwear.

"Throw me my uniform please." he grunted as he struggled lightly to buckle his arm guards.

"Why don't you get it yourself?" Arthur huffed, though he did comply, seeing as he'd practiced getting geared up a lot more than Alfred and thus could do the task faster.

"Thanks." Alfred caught the navy blue ensemble, pulling his clothes on immediately.

"Grab a sword and a knife. No shield. We don't have time to fight, we're going to have to kill." Arthur told him, eyes cold and hard with acceptance.

"We're going to kill." Alfred repeated, jaw tightening. "We're going to take innocent lives."

"Or they will." Arthur argued, tightening the last strap on his uniform with a loud zip. "When you're at war, you don't think about this kind of thing."

"But we aren't allowed to kill in a regular situation, so why should it be any different now?" Alfred asked quietly, buttoning his overcoat.

"Because there are no rules in war. Kill or be killed."

"War is just us, trying to justify the unjustifiable."

"Then so be it." Arthur threw Alfred a look that clearly said they didn't have time to discuss this.

Alfred kept silent, dread churning in his stomach as he got dressed. It was unnerving to be so subdued when he knew he was going to go out there to murder people. It was like he'd stopped responding to such stimulus. As if he'd accepted what was required of him.

"You called for me?"

Alfred was snapped of of his grim thoughts by the sound of a familiar voice. Whipping around, he found Matthew, panting to catch his breath, leaning against the doorsill.

"I came as fast as I could." Matthew added, taking a few steps into the room. "How may I be of assistance, your Majesty." He asked, turning to Arthur.

"Wonderful." Arthur nodded, motioning Alfred's brother over. "I have a mission for you, a very important mission that will... 'Make or break' Spades." His eyes hardened.

"So no pressure, Mattie." Alfred laughed shakily, joining them as he was, no doubt, curious about this ultimate mission.

"Matthew, you are going to ride to Diamonds and deliver a message to king Francis." Arthur continued. "I have no time to write a letter, so you will just have to tell him the following: Spades is at war, the capital has been attacked, and the security of the Royals has been compromised."

"But how do I get there?" Matthew asked nervously, biting his lip. The task assigned to him was not an easy one, and he couldn't help but be afraid.

"Take a horse, ride north, you'll reach the border. Ask directions from the border forth, though if you continue to ride north-west, you'll get there in no time."Arthur picked out a sword from the display and grabbed its sheath as well. "Don't stop riding, no matter how much it hurts or how tired you are. The King will provide for you when you get there, so ride as fast as you can and don't stop."

"Why me?" Matthew muttered, obviously nervous with the important mission he was being given. Sensing his twin's nervousness, Alfred stepped closer and gently slid his hand into Matthew's, squeezing tight.

"I trust you." Matthew's heart flipped at the three simple words. "I know you'll be able to do this." Arthur turned to look at him as he finished securing his scabbard and slid his sword into it. "You're my brother-in-law and a capable young man. There is no reason for me not to believe in you."

"Right." Matthew nodded, chewing on his lower lip. "Okay." He nodded. "I'll get going, then."

"Matt." Alfred tightened his grip on his hand, causing his twin to turn and look at him quizzically. "Please stay safe."

"I'm more worried about you, Al." His younger brother chuckled sadly. "If you die out there, I'll never forgive you."

"I'm a hero, Mattie, I can't die." Alfred chuckled shakily before awkwardly moving to gather his brother in a hug. "Please be safe." He repeated in a soft whisper.

"I will." Matthew nodded, returning the hug briefly. "Now go, your country needs you. We all need you." He pushed away from him and smiled sadly. "I'll see you later."

"Yeah. You will." Alfred returned the smile with an insecure grin of his own. Matthew only nodded to him and Arthur before turning around and running out of the room without a second glance.

"Sorry." Alfred mumbled once he was gone, turning to his husband. "He... He means a lot to me, so just in case..." He trailed off, looking away.

"It's fine, but let's hurry." Arthur sheathed a sword on the display and threw him the scabbard, that he easily caught and hung on his belt.

"Arthur, you mean a lot to me, too..." Alfred mumbled, blushing.

"I know." Arthur merely replied, the light of the fire flickering in his eyes like hardy determination. Striding over to Alfred, he grabbed his collar and pulled him down for a short, but intense kiss. "That's why both of us will be alright."

Alfred nodded, breathless at his husband's display of power, and obediently followed as Arthur took him out of the room, leaving the torches to the servants.

They broke into a light run as warm-up, and as they exited through the front doors, they caught Yao's gaze. His eyes, full of well-wishes and reproach, followed them until they reached the front doors and bound down the steps, out of sight. Then, he turned back and kept directing the servants, accomplishing his duties as Jack while the mere children that the King and Queen were ran out there to protect their lives and people. Arthur and Alfred did not talk while jogging, mainly to save breath, but also because the situation required no words. They weren't the negotiators anymore. They were the soldiers.

There was a commotion at the front gate, which only caused the two to speed up. As they slid to a stop in front of the gate, they were treated to the sight of their citizens, pressed against the gate in a huge mob, holding nothing but the hands of loved ones or wailing children.

They were crying to be let it.

"Come, Alfred, we'll go through the gardens to avoid the mob." Arthur suggested in a strangely quiet voice. He started heading off before Alfred ran to catch up, grabbing his wrist.

"What about them?" Alfred asked in a shaky voice, motioning with his head at the citizens that the gate guards were having trouble containing.

"We can't do anything about them." Arthur pronounced coldly as if he were trained to respond like that. "By fighting, we'll protect them, but for now-"

"You can't say that!" Alfred cut him off, eyes widening in horror. "Look at them, look at the people you swore to protect!" He argued, pointing at the screaming mob.

"I am protecting them by standing between them and the enemy!" Arthur replied aggressively, tugging Alfred urgently.

"That isn't much distance, is it?" Alfred muttered bitterly. "They're going to die out here, exposed to enemy fire."

"Alfred, you're wasting time. Just what is it that you suggest doing?" Arthur inquired, crossing his arms.

"Let them in." Alfred replied without hesitation. "We'll let them hide in the castle so they'll be off the streets during the fight."

"Alfred, that's ridiculous." Arthur replied without skipping a beat. "You can't expect to shelter the entire city in the castle."

"Why not? The halls are big enough to contain plenty of people! There are dozens of unused rooms! We just have to keep them off the streets, that's it!" Alfred protested vehemently. "These people are counting on us to keep them safe, Arthur. We have to do everything we can to ensure their minimal safety."

"We can't just let everyone into the castle. That's not what it was made for." The Queen mumbled uncomfortably, looking away.

"This isn't about social ranks, who's rich and who's poor, it's not about who's a farmer and who's aristocracy. It's about whether or not you are a living human being." Alfred's gaze was strong, yet pleading his husband to understand.

And deep inside, Arthur understood what Alfred was getting at, but he still couldn't condone his suggestion. He was unwilling to let the subject drop so easily.

"Maybe this is why it chose me." Alfred restarted, seeing as the Queen wasn't replying. His body was tense, incapable of facing Alfred, but Alfred stared at Arthur, unrelenting. "The clocks. Maybe this is why they chose me, so we could finally get our voices heard."

Arthur's throat was tight, and he found himself unable to retort. Alfred gave him a few seconds before taking Arthur's lack of resistance as his win. Gently entwining his hands with Arthur's, he guided him right back to the gates, tapping on one of the worried guards' shoulders.

"Let them into the castle. If any of them are hurt, make sure they get access to a physician. Our personal physician, if that's what it takes." He ordered. The guard blinked in confusion and fidgeted nervously.

"Are you sure that is the best course of action?" He mumbled, as if afraid of expressing his opinion.

"Very." Alfred nodded, eyes as emotionless as before. "Open the gates."

"Yes Sir." The guard nodded and looked at him for just a split-second longer before turning around and barking orders to the other guards fighting to hold the crowd back.

It was like a dam had been opened. As the metal gates swung open, the guards practically had to dive to the side to avoid being trampled. Arthur and Alfred carefully stood at the side, watching the wave of people flow into the castle grounds like a tide. Then, Arthur tugged Alfred towards the small stone structure attached to the gates, where the guards would take their breaks, taking the door handle and swinging it open.

"The crowd's thinned out, so we can make our way through the observation tower and down the path to town." He told him, weaving around the sparse furniture in the room.

"It was a good idea, then?" Alfred asked, his scratched voice hopeful though everything seemed so bleak right now.

"It cleared the way." Was the only comment Arthur offered, still reticent to offer Alfred decent praise. He didn't approve of his decision, but he was only a Queen. He had no right to correct his King. Instead, he took the lead and exited the observation tower, ending up on the other side of the open gate. "Lock the gates when the people are inside." Arthur ordered in a booming, authoritative voice that made Alfred shudder. He loved it when Arthur got so serious and took control. It was an impressive sight to see.

Letting himself be carried by Arthur's orders, Alfred followed him as he turned tail and ran down the dirt path to the city. Fires could already be seen in the distance, lighting the darkness like fireflies in the night. The sight was far from magical, though, as the fires were only bringers of death.

"What's our plan?" Alfred panted once they got down to the deserved streets of the Second District.

"The enemy has only just entered our perimeter, so they will most likely still be stationed around the Seventh, Eighth and Ninth Districts. We're heading there, to hopefully find our... dearest friends." Arthur's eyes glinted with anger, and Alfred briefly wondered to whom he referred. Finding no plausible answer, though, he saved his breath for running and dodging the occasional fleeing citizen.

As they approached the borders of the Sixth district, the damage started becoming more and more apparent. Houses in the Sixth District, all wood and the rare brick building, had already caught fire, the streets filled with panicked citizens that helped limping and moaning loved ones escape towards the safer districts. Arthur easily turned his eyes away from the fear and pain plaguing the people he'd sworn to protect at any cost and kept moving forward. Alfred, though, Alfred and his ridiculous sense of heroism stayed back, slowing his jogging pace to get a good look at his surroundings, as if seeing the death around him would change anything.

If anything, it discouraged him even more, and as they left the boundaries of the falling Sixth District, into the burning Seventh District, he wondered if they really did have any hope left, or if they were just stalling the inevitable.

The Seventh District, being one of the districts on the outskirts of the city, was predictably a battleground. The soldiers of Spades and those of Clubs were facing off at every street corner, bodies belonging to either side littering the rubble of broken lives and cracked sidewalks. It was a raging inferno, due to the number of exposed straw and wood houses that the poorer district had. The clang of metal and yells perverted the atmosphere that was usually so quaint, the innocence of laughing children fluttering away with the ashes of the burning homes.

"Duck over here." Arthur yelled above the crackling inferno. Stunned into silence, Alfred only nodded mechanically, eyes still trained on the horrible sight all around him. Seeing as Alfred was too shocked to act independently, Arthur took him by the wrist and dragged him into an alley.

"All these people..." Alfred whispered, eyes wide. "Why?"

"Clubs must have a reason for the assault, but whatever it is, killing civilians is dirty play. This is the second time they've harmed a civilian population, so we cannot put anything past them." Arthur mumbled, eyes darting left and right, analyzing the battlefield.

"M-My life was in the Ninth. It's all gone, just like the Seventh. My friends and neighbours..."

"Alfred, snap out of it! We don't have time to mourn the fallen, lest we wish to let more die." Arthur glared at his husband, eyes pained, but cold. "The longer we wait, the more people die!"

"What are we doing here, then?" Alfred asked in a strangled voice. "What are we doing? We're helping no one, no matter what we do! We're figureheads, placebos! We change nothing, and then we pretend that whatever we're doing is saving the people trapped under burning homes and bleeding out on the side of the road!" His eyes were frenzied, desperate. "We're useless, Arthur, just you and I, we won't be able to change a thing!"

Arthur was just glaring at him when he turned to look at him. His fists were clenched, mouth set in a thin frown, the blaze and sparks from the nearby building reflecting in his eyes.

"When you're quite done whining," he started coldly. "we have lives to protect. Perhaps only one. Perhaps none at all. But we'll have tried, and if you give up before trying, it's worth even less than if you try and fail."

Alfred gazed back at him, unconvinced and hopeless, but there was a spark of recognition in his eyes, and Arthur caught it.

"Your people need you, my King." He whispered, turning around and facing deeper into the alley. "Move your ass."

This seemed to shock Alfred into consciousness again, as he suddenly clenched his fists and nodded.

"Right, I swore to the kingdom and to the gods that I would not abandon the people. I am the King. I am the people. I am the kingdom." He looked like he was trying to convince himself, but Arthur was hopeful, for he sounded quite sure of himself.

"And I am your Queen, and I will protect you with my life." He murmured, and then motioned to him. "Quickly now, let's move."

"Right." This time, Alfred was by his side in a second, looking a lot readier than before. "Let's go." And he took the lead, breaking into a jog. Arthur sighed and followed along, dodging fallen carts and dead animals littering the cobblestone streets.

Turning a corner, Arthur almost bumped into Alfred, who had stopped in the face of a house that was extraordinarily ablaze, flames swarming the wood and straw of the building. The raging heat explained why Alfred had stopped for a second, but even more extraordinary of a sight was the little girl that was standing dangerously close to the flames, screaming and crying.

"What is she doing?" Alfred was the first to react, freezing for a second, before breaking into a run towards her. Arthur quickly followed, watching with mild astonishment as Alfred ran towards the girl, who was desperately trying to get close but couldn't, and picked her up and away from the flames. By the time the Queen had gotten there, Alfred was trying to hold the struggling child back.

"My mom is in there! Mom is still in there!" She cried, fighting against Alfred as he juggled her in his arms.

"It's too dangerous to go back!" Alfred protested, never mind the fact that both Royals knew the mother was already dead.

"You have to help my mom! Please!" The girl, who couldn't have been older than seven, turned her wide, pleading gaze to Alfred.

"You have to save yourself first, okay?" Alfred told her, unsure how to break the news to her.

"Mom..." She replied, turning her eyes to what used to be her home. Suddenly, in a large, bone-rattling noise, the entire house crumbled, the burning planks falling and crushing everything until the house had been flattened. "Mom!" The girl screamed, letting out a wail of desperation and struggling for only a second before going boneless and clinging onto Alfred's clothes, crying.

"Alfred." Arthur warned, eyes betraying the pain he felt at the girl's heart-wrenching sobs. "We have to move on."

"But..." The King turned his eyes to the now-orphaned girl.

"You can't save everyone." Arthur reminded him, eyes turning to the flattened house.

"But every life we save counts." He completed Arthur's sentence, and nodded. "I'm sorry, kiddo, but we have to go help other people like you." Alfred ran a hand trough the girl's ash-streaked hair.

"Please, I'm all alone, don't leave!" She sniffled, tears running down her soot-covered face.

"Run to the castle." Arthur suggested, though it had originally had been him that had disapproved of the idea.

"Right!" Alfred nodded, gently setting the girl down. "Go to the castle, they'll help you." He ordered, calmly prying her fingers off of him. "You'll be okay."

"Okay." The little girl nodded, tears still flowing from her eyes. "G'bye." She sniffled, wiping her cheeks for a moment before brushing past Alfred in a run.

"Now that that's over with." Arthur commented as Alfred got up, dusting himself off.

"I know, I know, we've wasted too much time already." Alfred mumbled, looking further into the streets. "Shall we?"

"Let's shall." Arthur let a brief smirk touch his face before they were both running again.

The streets eventually led them to the distinct border between the Seventh and Eighth Districts. It was a large circular cobblestone-lined area surrounded by shops, and a big fountain in the middle. Now, the shops were looted and destroyed, bodies floating in the fountain and turning the gushing water into a morbid pink.

"What are we even looking for? You say we're going to save people, but so far, all we've been doing is run away." Alfred complained once they stopped a bit further off the side, avoiding the one-on-ones between Spades and Clubs soldiers taking place in the middle.

"Alfred, I do love you very much, but for hell's sake, be kind enough to stop doubting me." Arthur sighed in exasperation, never tearing his eyes away from the battle scene in front of him. The yells and cries were deafening, and along with the crackle of the numerous fires, they created a symphony of death that the Royals had to yell to beat.

"Well I dunno, so far, all we've been doing is run. I trust you, but what now?" Alfred answered, gaze pleading.

"We're looking for someone who's a good friend to the both of us." Arthur was still scanning the square as he spoke. "The Clubs army has penetrated the city until the Sixth, which means that the middle segment must be in around here, leaving the last segment in the Ninth and outside the city bounds. Identifying their fighting style as a raid-type, the fastest ones would take the front, the heavy hitters in the back, and in the middle, amongst the balanced fighters, we can find our target."

Alfred leaned over to follow Arthur's line of vision, and raked the battle-afflicted square until both of them simultaneously found what there was to be found.

"I'm assuming that's the good friend you were talking about." Alfred raked his eyes across the tall, hulking figure resting atop an imposing steed. His hair was pale and his body well-built, but, as all testimonies had stated beforehand, his smile was the most threatening characteristic.

Riding next to his Queen, the King of Clubs stopped his horse at the square's edge, and surveyed the massacre with morbid satisfaction. His smile was unwavering.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

**I wanted to add more onto it, but I had to cut it off here to make chapter 12 and 13 of equal length. So here you go. Surprise cliffhanger!**  
** *ducks for cover***

**I don't really like this chapter for some reason. Thoughts and opinions are welcome, anonymous or not, I don't mind. And I promise that this time, I will answer your reviews within 72 hours of getting them o3o I still have plenty of school to deal with, so you'll have to give me a little maneuvering time D: **

**Okay, I never really have much to say here. I hope you enjoyed, and please leave a review telling me what was good and what was bad! Thank you!**


	13. True

**Author's Notes**

**Sorry for the delay. I was gonna post this when the next chapter was halfway done, but it's not remotely close to being done. Sigh.**

**I got a Tumblr. URL is givemelibertea. I post a bunch of random stuff, mostly USUK, mainly Hetalia, sooo... If you want, I'm here for ya :U**

**I also got a pet bunny. His name is Iggy, he's a white dwarf, and he's a rude motherfucker that loves leaving poop everywhere and peeing in his food bowl. But I love himmmm. He's a baby anyways, 1 month old, so I forgive him xD **

**On again with the usual review roll for all the amazing people that take the time to write to me omg I love you guys sooo much, thank you: punkydo410, PiffBee, HamburgerWithTea, Canada Cowboy, MissFr34k, WRITING IS TIRESOME YEAH, Ember Hinote, Anne Fatalism Dilettante, ZhangArronXun and xXxPrettyinPinkxXx. **

**Please enjoy the next chapter! ;w;**

* * *

"I thought we'd find them here." Arthur grumbled so low, Alfred barely heard him above the symphony of death.

"So ... What do we do now?" Alfred asked nervously, gazing over at the royalty of Clubs worriedly.

"We do what we swore to do before the land and the gods." Arthur's eye flashed determinately and he pulled his sword out of its sheath with a ringing noise. "We protect Spades."

Alfred, frozen by such an outcome, nodded dumbly, and mechanically followed his husband's example. When Arthur nodded to him and then motioned forward with his head, Alfred followed without a word. As they leapt out of their hiding spot and jogged towards the other monarchs, neither of them spoke, both of them still numbed by the realization that their nation was breaking.

They dodged the soldiers and stopped in front of the monarchs, who had obviously seen them coming, for they locked gazes even before they'd skidded to a stop.

"And at last we meet again, comrades." the King of Clubs inclined his head in mock greeting.

"Unfortunately for you, it's not behind a negotiation table right now." Alfred barked back, grip clenched on his weapon.

"Why so violent, King of Spades?" the other King asked as if he were inquiring about the weather.

"You're attacking the people I swore to protect, so I will not let you go on like this!" Alfred growled. "Either you call your army off and walk away, either the violence will be necessary."

"Ah but you must understand that as you must protect your people, I must protect mine as well." Ivan sighed softly, undeterred by the bite in Alfred's tone. "My people are too many, and there is famine running amongst them. As their King, I must ensure they find farming lands to feed their families. You must excuse the rude interruption, but I have people that believe in me as well."

"Your tactics are crude and unfair!" Alfred protested, gritting his teeth.

"All is fair in love and war." Ivan's eyes flashed and his smile seemed to grow wider. Alfred paid no attention.

"You are killing our innocent civilians as you seek to feed yours!" he instead retorted in an angered shout.

"No, comrade." Ivan's eyes flashed as he finally swung his feet over the saddle and jumped down, the entire world seemingly shaking upon impact. "I am merely clearing the way." he chuckled, pulling his sword right out of its sheath.

"In that case, I will stand in your way." Alfred gulped down, bringing his sword up into position. He spread his feet. He concentrated on Ivan. He balanced his weight. Just like Arthur had shown him, just like Arthur had taught him, he prepared to fight the King of Clubs. Nervous did not begin to describe how he felt. He was anxious, and afraid, for he knew he did not have as much training as the other King. Nonetheless, he would try, for a man that gave up before trying was worse than a man that died trying.

In a flash, their swords had met, and the dance for dominance had begun.

"Arthur, so we meet again." the Queen of Clubs, Elizabeta, called out to the other Queen from atop her mount. "It is a shame we could not meet under better circumstances."

"Quite." Arthur smirked, watching as she made her way down her horse. "But you know why we fight. For the King." he took his stance, provocative and ready.

"For the King." Elizabeta agreed before unsheathing her sword and jumping at Arthur.

The inferno around them created a ring of fire that seemed to be fueled by the sound of metal against metal, sparks flying as the weapons met only briefly before pulling back. Whilst Alfred was strong, he was no match for the King of Clubs, so he quickly switched to a more defensive position, alert to counter-attack against any heavy blows. The Queens were graceful in their fight, their blades merely grazing each other when they met, their bodies twisting and moving quickly to try and reach out to touch the other Queen. They were both light-hitters, so their blades clashed more often, the soft clanging of their weapons like a symphony to their Kings' ears.

The symphony was ruined when a scream pierced the air. And Alfred made the mistake of glancing to the side.

Though Arthur seemed to successfully have knocked Elizabeta down for the count, the moment of glory was short lived.

"Alfred!" said man's eyes snapped back to his opponent for a second, a second that saved his life as he dodged the incoming heavy blow, rolling on the ground. The King of Spades, avoiding nearly having been cut in half, coughed out dust, and before he could recover, the sword was kicked out of his hand.

Ivan picked the weapon up and then pressed a boot to Alfred's back, admiring the bejeweled hilt of his enemy's sword.

"It's a nice weapon you have, King of Spades." he complimented, then pointed it down at Alfred's neck. "What would you think if I used it to kill you?"

"Damn bastard, face me instead!" Arthur growled, running at him and clumsily swinging his sword in an attempt to get the enemy weapon away from his King. Though Ivan easily blocked the swing with Alfred's sword, the move served its purpose as attention was switched from the King to the Queen of Spades.

"Hasn't anyone taught you manners, Queen of Spades?" the King of Clubs smiled, pushing against Arthur's sword without breaking a sweat. Arthur gritted his teeth. The guy was strong, he'd give him that. "A Queen is inferior to the King, always." he added before putting his weight against the blade. Arthur, smaller than Ivan, stumbled back, and did not recover in time to avoid or block the subsequent punch that sent him sprawling on the ground, face throbbing. "Kneel." Ivan retracted his fist and then turned back to Alfred.

"A-Arthur!" Alfred called, trembling as the pressure on his back grew, hurting his ribs and spine. "Arthur, you okay?"

"You are sweet, da?" Ivan nodded, glancing at Arthur for a second, who was coughing up blood and most probably trying to regain a clear vision and balance after such a hard hit to the face.

"A good King cares for his Queen." Alfred snarled, though his heart was beating too fast.

"A good King also cares for his people." Ivan countered, the smile never leaving his face. "I protect the ones I love. And you protect yours. May the best King win."

"Fine." Alfred gritted his teeth and started wiggling, trying to get up from the ground though he was pinned strong.

"Though you don't look like much of a strong King, flopping like a measly worm in the dirt."

"I wonder whose fault that is." Alfred muttered, throwing a worried look at Arthur, who seemed to be a bit disoriented, down on his knees.

"Look at you, grovelling while your country falls." Ivan continued with no regard for his comments. His eyes went to Alfred's, the King of Spades twisting his head and putting his cheek on the cold ground in an effort to keep eye contact with his foe. "Both you and your Queen." he suddenly moved, putting his other foot on Alfred's wrist. The only thing that touched the ground and probably saved Alfred from being literally crushed under his weight was his heel. With now his entire weight on the King of Spades, he enjoyed the flash of pain in the enemy King's eye and the way he trembled beneath his feet, exerting himself just to be able to breathe.

"Don't... talk about my... Queen like that..." Alfred wheezed, taking shallow breaths and struggling to bear the pain spreading in his ribs.

"But you are all the same, aren't you?" Ivan threw an amused look at Arthur, on the side, who had gotten up and was testing his balance, and then looked back at the man under his feet, literally. "Both destined to fall..." he finally moved Alfred's sword and placed it vertically, right above his open palm. Alfred's eyes widened. "... and stay on the ground."

"We will not bow!" a battle cry came from behind Ivan, who sidestepped the lunge Arthur had come in for, finally moving his foot off of Alfred's back and engaging Arthur. Alfred let out a loud gasp, panting to regain air in his lungs, and winced as Ivan gave his wrist a bit more pressure, going until right before the breaking point, before moving off completely to fight Arthur.

Alfred pushed himself up, chest aching, and stumbled a little, fumbling on his clothes to find some kind of weapon now that Ivan had his sword. Arthur had led the King of Clubs a bit further away from him, blades clashing violently, so he had a bit of time to recover before running back into the fray.

Arthur did not give him the occasion to do so, though. Ducking from under a particularly heavy swing of Ivan's sword, he ran to Alfred's side and grabbed his upper arm.

"Mount Ivan's horse." he ordered in a dry tone, immediately turning back around to re-engage his opponent. This left Alfred alone again, confused by the command.

"What do you mean? Why?" he cried out, palms sweaty as he watched his husband dance to avoid the blades.

"Just do it!" Arthur's tone sounded exasperated, and Alfred momentarily felt guilty for doubting his husband so much. Still, he had no idea what the strange request was about, and he couldn't help but worry, even as he moved to execute it, eyes on Arthur as he jogged up to the horse.

The steed tossed its head and whinnied, but Alfred hushed it with a few well-placed strokes to the nose. Moving carefully and whispering words of comfort that were tainted by the nervousness in his tone, he moved along the body of the horse and then in a swift movement, mounted it. The horse only panicked a bit at first, but Alfred was able to tame it, now having a front seat to the fight in front of him.

Arthur was getting visibly tired. He winced as he blocked a particularly hard swing, the impact resonating through his bones, and stepped back a little. He couldn't see if Alfred had gotten to relative safety already, and his heart was beating fast for both of them. Jumping back a little more, he ventured a look behind him. His eyes lit up as he noted Alfred well-settled on the horse, watching him worriedly. And in the very same second, Alfred let out a startled cry that saved Arthur's life.

"WATCH OUT!"

Arthur reacted instinctively, jumping backwards, and the sword that was coming at him narrowly missed cutting him in half. Instead, the blade cut through his side, right through the leather plate, and with the twisting motion, dragged the gash all the way to the front. Arthur choked a cry as blood splattered on the steel, and his vision momentarily went black. When he came back, he was kneeling on all four, one hand pressed to the injury that was now slowly dripping blood on the ground.

"Arthur!" A strangled cry tore from Alfred's throat as he watched, powerless, as his husband fell to his knees, clutching his side. "I'm coming! Ivan, don't you dare touch him again!"

"Don't move!" Arthur cried out with some effort, panting and shaking his head. Alfred froze in place.

"I am curious to find out what it is you're plotting." Ivan smiled, his tone very calm for someone who was trying to kill them. "If you live long enough to carry it out, that is."

"We will live!" Alfred yelled, his throat raw as he inhaled the smoke of broken lives and burned innocence. "We will live to fight another day and protect the ones we love from people like you!"

"Make no mistake. I, too, work to protect the ones I love. And to do so, I must do all there is to do." Ivan's eyes flashed, his smile faltering for a second.

"Then we have nothing to say." Arthur interjected, panting for breath as blood seeped through his clothes, running on his fingertips. "May the most devoted win."

"Arthur...?"

"Alfred, turn the horse!" Arthur suddenly yelled, cutting through the crackling tension hovering above their heads, in the soot-filled air. "Run!"

"Arthur, what are you saying?" Alfred threw a worried look at Ivan, who only looked amused and didn't seem to want to stop them anytime soon. Like watching pawns in a game. Knowing he had ultimate control in the end, no matter what happened. Alfred gritted his teeth, convincing himself that they were doing things out of their own free will and that Ivan was not manipulating them to his ends.

"Do it!" Arthur let out a roar of pain and pushed himself up to his feet. "Trust me!"

Alfred caught the glint of determination in his eyes and decided to trust him not to die. He'd never given reason for Alfred to doubt him, so he wouldn't.

Alfred hesitated for a split-second, and then pulled on Ivan's horse's reins, turning it around with a whinny. Arthur was already running towards him as he started into a light trot.

"But we're not done yet!" Ivan smiled darkly, standing in Arthur's path and raising his sword at the incoming Royal. "Do stay, da?" And he swung the sword at Arthur's neck.

Arthur took a deep breath and jumped forward, falling towards the ground, the sword grazing the top of his head with an audible whistle. He shivered, but kept his voice to moan in pain as he hit the ground and immediately rolled forward, his side injury sending spikes of pain flooding through his entire body.

Ivan only looked mildly surprised as Arthur rolled to escape him, and got right back up to run towards Alfred, who was already a distance away. The plan suddenly became clear to everyone assisting to the scene.

Arthur was panting heavily as he tried to catch up, his legs pushing him further and further despite the pain coursing through him. His head was pounding, limbs protesting against the abuse, but he could see Alfred looking back at him, apprehensive and worried, and he knew he had to live. Not just for the kingdom, but also for his King.

Alfred was holding his breath. The horse was on a light trot, not going fast at all, but Ivan was already moving to chase Arthur. Despite his hulking figure, he was surprisingly fast, and Alfred did not want to see what would happen if his husband, slowed by his injury, were to be caught by the enemy.

"Take my hand..." He mouthed, breath caught as he leaned back and extended his arm. Arthur raised his gaze, finding his goal and pushing his legs further to catch up to him. He was close, getting closer, but so was the King of Clubs, hot on his tail, unhindered by an injury of Arthur's injury's size.

He was not far. Neither of them were . Alfred let out a shuddering breath and leaned as far back as he could. In return, Arthur extended his hand, fingers outstretched, an inch apart from Alfred's fingers.

"Arthur!" Alfred finally gave in, panic pounding in his veins. The road has become tighter as they'd left the square, and it was harder to maneuver the horse and look out for his husband at the same time. Thankfully, his voice seemed to be the last push Arthur needed.

His fingers brushed Alfred's, grasped on, and then his palm closed on Alfred's. the latter did not waste any time at all, pulling him up, muscles aching in effort. Arthur jumped off the ground, body swinging forward with Alfred's given momentum, and caught his foot in the stirrup, swinging his other leg across the horse and thus ending up reverse-saddled in front of Alfred.

As soon as Arthur was up, the King of Spades kicked the horse's flank, and with one last glance at the King of Clubs, who did not seem too intent on chasing them anymore, they accelerated out of sight.

Sudden pressure against his collarbone brought his attention to Arthur as he placed his face in the crook of his husband's neck, hunched over in pain. Trying to keep him steady on the galloping horse, Alfred wound an arm tightly around his back, resting his hand in his dirty hair and caressing him softly. Arthur was whimpering, his body trembling as it fought to close the wound in his side.

"It's okay. It'll be alright. We're fine." Alfred whispered, kissing the top of his head comfortingly, keeping one eye on his husband and the other on the road. He was vaguely aware of the warm wetness seeping into his skin, but thought nothing of it, deciding that Arthur wouldn't appreciate it if he mentioned the very much human expression of weakness.

They galloped through the back roads, avoiding most conflict and sidestepping past any fight they encountered. Neither of them spoke, having trouble coping with the sights and happenings. They listened to the crackling inferno plaguing the houses once so homely, and silently mourned for the innocent as they fled the city they'd sworn to protect.

"We're leaving the city." Alfred announced as he steered the horse single-handedly upon one of the many smaller dirt paths that lower district inhabitants used for casual exit of the city. Since he'd often used these passages himself, he could recall which path led where, and maneuvered the roads as if he had never left his commoner lifestyle in the first place.

It was a great advantage for them, as he was able to lead the horse through the forest of low branches and upturned roots, steady on the beaten, narrow dirt path. Arthur was still making slight noises on pain once in a while, breathing heavy, and Alfred really just wanted to stop. Still, he knew he couldn't so he pushed on.

They exited the city a couple of hundred meters away from the main entrance and exit, where the Clubs army was concentrated, medic tents set up and soldiers buzzing around. Careful to line the edges of the forest from which they emerged, Alfred led the horse on a slow trot towards the horizon. Only once they were out of sight of the army did he break away from the shadows of the receding night and order the horse into a full gallop.

The night was still dark, though it was clear that day would rise in but an hour or the like. Alfred hoped they could make it someplace safe before the sun rose and exposed them to view.

"Where to now?" He whispered almost subconsciously, gaze sorrowful as he tried not to turn around and watch his home, both his homes, disappear into the darkness, occasionally alight with the devastating fires and the heavy plumes of smoke that clouded what once used to be the bluest of skies.

"Diamonds..." Came the groan from the person in his arms. Alfred looked down, concerned, and rubbed Arthur's back a little more, hugging him close.

"Diamonds is a day's ride away. You won't make it." Alfred protested, frowning. "I'll stop-"

"No!" Arthur hissed. "Absolutely not! We have to keep going as fast as we can."

"Arthur, at this rate, you'll bleed out before you get anywhere at all." Alfred still looked disapproving.

"It'll be fine, I've had worse." Namely, his hand pierced all the way through and pinned to the ground. Then again, his hand wasn't a vital region, and he hadn't been in as much danger back then. His wound was a flesh wound, yes, but it had cut across his side and dangerously close to his stomach. That wasn't good.

"I'm going to stop at the next town." Alfred still sounded unconvinced and worried. Arthur wasn't expecting any less but it was still slightly annoying.

"Absolutely no stopping in towns. Towns have eyes. They will hear and they will see. They'll keep records. We want to leave no traces, throw the enemy off." Arthur shifted and groaned in pain. Now that the adrenaline was dying down, the slash hurt a lot more. His hands, soaked in blood, felt cold and numb.

"I'll have to stop sometime, Arthur. I can't let you bleed out like this. You'll get infected, both of us are tired, and this horse won't be able to get until Diamonds Castle if I keep pushing it like this."

"We can't stop at inhabited places, though." Damn Alfred for making good points. "Ride until the border. Avoid the town perimeters. We'll leave this horse with the border guards and take one of their horses."

"Okay." Alfred bit his lip and ventured a kiss on top of Arthur's matted, dirtied hair. "Okay. That works. You're okay. We're both okay."

"I know." Arthur finally took one of his bloodied hands off his half-clotted wound and wound it tightly around Alfred's waist, holding on for dear life.

Seeing as Arthur was holding on, Alfred gave him one more comforting rub, and then grasped the reins with both hands, urging the horse to run as fast as it could towards Diamonds.

They rode in silence, slowing down to let the horse catch its breath at certain moments, but never dismounting. Their backs ached horribly, having gone numb after the first hour. The horrid pain surging through both their lower backs was nothing, though, compared to the heaviness in their hearts. Still, it did hurt quite a lot, and by the time they got the border in sight, both the day and their bones were breaking.

"We're almost there." Alfred murmured, though loud enough for Arthur to hear him above the whooshing wind.

"Avoid the border guards. Though they won't stop us, we can't let them know we're here." Arthur insisted, panting.

"What do you want me to do, then?" Alfred deviated a little from the line of sight of the patrol building, slowing down slightly.

"There's a line of trees there. Go..." He took a sharp breath, and Alfred's heart flipped in his chest. "... There. There's an entrance in the metal fence there."

"Right." Alfred nodded, and, never taking his eyes away from the road, he turned the horse towards the line of trees that made the border between Spades and Diamonds. As they got closer, they could discern the metal fence that made the entire border between the two countries.

They rode into the trees, slowing down to maneuver the horse right, and stopped when they reached the fence. They then trotted along the fence until they found the entrance Arthur had mentioned. It was a door cut out of the fence, barred with a coded lock. Alfred stopped the horse, and then tapped Arthur.

"Okay, we're here." he announced softly.

"Right." Arthur nodded, and gripped the saddle, finding the foothold and swinging his leg over with a soft cry of pain. Muscles trembling in exertion and exhaustion, he let himself drop, stumbling before dropping to one knee. The human side of the Queen of Spades was starting to poke out as Alfred immediately dismounted to help him up. The numb feeling that came with hours of non-stop horse riding was racking their bodies with pain, causing even Alfred to groan as he shook the feeling out.

Walking to the gate, Alfred supported Arthur, who took the lock with both his bloody hands and shakily entered the code. The lock clicked open, and relief coursed through Alfred as he pulled the gate open.

"Come on." He urged, taking the horse's reins in one hand and Arthur's hand with the other.

Arthur wordlessly followed, waiting for Alfred to escort the horse in before re-locking the padlock.

"The spring where they should have left their horses is not far." He grunted, leaning against his husband as they walked deeper into the trees.

"How do you even know all this?" Alfred couldn't help but wonder.

"We changed the border guard system when we erected the fence that separates Diamonds from Spades. I had to study it and visit the premises ever since I was a teenager." Arthur explained, and it was clear that he was speaking to cover the fact that he was in no shape to be doing anything but rest.

"I see." Alfred couldn't say much, so he kept his mouth shut, saving his breath for half-carrying his semi-conscious husband through the foliage. It was a relief when the sound of a running spring caught his attention, and he emerged from the trees to the sight of a nice clearing occupied by about half a dozen horses.

"There." Arthur grunted, motioning to the spring with a jerky movement of his head. "We can take a few minutes."

"Okay." Alfred let the horse go do whatever it wanted to do and put both his arms around Arthur, helping him limp towards the water. He set him down right on the banks and knelt down next to him, supporting his upper body.

Arthur had his eyes closed, panting heavily. His brow was creased in agony, and his hands were trembling as they clutched at the blood-soaked clothes he wore. Alfred gulped down and reached over, splashing some water on Arthur's sweat and dirt streaked face. After a few splashes, he gently set him down on the grass and started pulling his clothes off.

The Queen whined in pain as Alfred removed the first layer of clothes and worked on pulling the leather armour off of him. As he pulled on the straps, he couldn't help but notice the sizeable slash in the leather. It had soaked up a lot of blood, but it was obvious that had Arthur not been wearing the thick leather chest guard, he would have been cut a lot more, if not cut halfway through.

Arthur let out a particularly loud whine when Alfred pulled the leather away from him, threads of blood connecting the skin to the leather for a moment before snapping. Alfred gulped down and pushed Arthur's last layer, his underclothes, up to expose the slash.

Arthur gave a sharp intake of breath as Alfred ran a finger lightly against the congealed wound. It didn't look deep because it hadn't needed stitches, but it still looked painful and dangerous if left untreated.

Determined, Alfred leaned over and scrubbed as much dirt and blood off his hands as he could in the water, and then pulled his outer layer of clothes off. He dipped the navy blue cloth in the water and brought it back, wringing it above Arthur's face.

His husband barely reacted to the splash of cold water so Alfred started on wiping the wound without further ado. As he wiped the blood off his abdomen, the Queen twitched and gave off small groans of pain. The King quietly pulled his leather plate off of him and followed with his underclothes.

Naked-chested, he ripped the shirt in half and then ripped one half into long strips of cloth. He then folded the other half into the appropriate shape and pressed it against the wound. He then started looping the strips of cloth around his waist to hold the rectangle in place. It was a smart method, but wouldn't hold for long. Arthur needed medical attention as soon as possible.

It was as he looped the last strip of cloth around Arthur's waist that a new reaction joined the blond's previous twitches. Shaking. He was shaking, and his chest was heaving jerkily. Alfred glanced up for a second and realized that he'd opened his eyes, dull green blurred by tears that escaped and rolled down his cheeks. And he was obviously trying to hold himself back, though they both knew he was horrible at it.

Alfred solemnly finished tying the makeshift bandage and then helped Arthur into his bloodied clothes again. Once he was dressed again, he pulled his husband's trembling body close into a tender hug, running his fingers through his hair.

"What have we done...?" Arthur croaked out hoarsely, sniffling and letting the tears of agony and anguish run down his face. "What have we done..." And Alfred said nothing.

They rested for about fifteen minutes, cleaning up the evidence that they'd ever been there by throwing the leather plates into the spring and drinking water as a substitute for food that their growling stomachs demanded. At the end of the fifteen minutes, Alfred pulled his now wet and bloody clothes back on, and picked out a rather strong-looking horse. He considered asking Arthur if he wanted to ride on his own for a moment, but the sight of him, sprawled nearly unconscious on the riverbank, was enough to convince him otherwise.

Thus, tailbones still aching from the previous ride, they pulled themselves up on the horse, Arthur in the front, leaning back against Alfred, who held the reins. Fifteen minutes after their arrival, they were already gone, the only evidence of their presence being the dark-skinned horse branded with the symbol of Clubs that now slept under a tree.

The ride was even more agonizing than the last. Alfred had to stop twice to shake the numbness out of his bones and let the horse drink. Arthur had long since become a panting and whimpering mess of sweaty, tear-streaked skin, and all Alfred could do for him now was ride, ride like both their lives depended on it- and they did.

It was around noon time when Diamonds castle came into view. Alfred's heart soared at the sight of it, and he clutched Arthur tighter, urging the horse to ride as fast as it could. The latter had fainted a small while ago, which came as both a relief and worry to Alfred, who only hoped they'd make it in time.

"Just a little more, girl." He grunted, teeth gritted in determination to make it. Exhaustion burned his eyes and weighed on his limbs, not to mention the unbearable pain paralyzing his lower half. Still, the heavy weight in his arms and in his heart helped him push on until he soared through the castle town's main entrance, ignoring the guards that yelled at him to stop. He was forced to decelerate as he weaved his way through the crowd of inhabitants, but ignored their various looks as they took in the sight of two disheveled, half-dead looking young adults dressed like nobles going to war.

Alfred felt himself going limp as he followed the sight of the castle to the road that led up to the gates. Were he around for sight-seeing, he would have noticed the beautiful, refined architecture and gorgeous flower beds, but right now, his eyes, burning with tears of exhaustion, were only set on the gate in front of him.

The adrenaline dissipated as he slowed down about a dozen feet from the gate. He opened his mouth to respond to the inquiries of the guards that sounded so far away from him, but the only sound that escaped his mouth was an exhausted whimper.

It was like a warning tone. All sounds and light filtered out of his ears all of a sudden, as if sucked out by a powerful vacuum. The tendrils of darkness wound around his aching limbs and pulled him down, quite literally when he was suddenly aware of a flipping sensation in his heart. His last reflex was to hold Arthur safely and curl over his body, and he fell sideways off the horse. His body impacted with the ground roughly, head bouncing with momentum, and he nearly immediately blacked out. He choked out a single word, a mere whisper, and then he was gone.

_"Francis..."_

* * *

**Author's Notes**

**Hope this makes up for the lack of EVERYTHING in the past, like, 4 chapters :U Finally, some action. Which will have to last you a few more chapters because they're safe and sound now, and ready to deal with recovery and counterattack. **

**I got tired of people making Russia the generic villain for no reason at all so I gave him a purpose. So depending on what side you stand, both parties, Spades and Clubs, can be the evil party. Both of them are fighting for their citizens, and the only reason why Clubs is seen as the villain is because the story is from the point of view of Spades. **

**As for Arthur's injury, I mentioned that it was a flesh wound, but seeing as it's on his side and on the front of his abdomen, a vital section of his body, it can get pretty bad really quickly, especially if infection settles in. Which is slightly inevitable, since the wound has gotten its fair share of dust, dirt, and bacteria from all sorts of sources. Also, I have no idea how much it would hurt to ride a galloping horse for hours on end, and if it's even possible, but a) they're on adrenaline b) their tailbones are going to hurt like a bitch. Artistic liberties.**

**Anyways, hope this was decent. Sorry for the lack of updates. I better wish you guys happy holidays and happy new year 2013, and please make me a Christmas present and review! ^^ **


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